Zach slid his silk sleeping robe up over his shoulders with the kind of tired elegance reserved for men who'd signed 73 legal documents and emotionally suppressed themselves into a migraine.
His damp hair clung to his temple as he flicked it back in slow motion, nice and slow, when two knocks echoed from his door.
He didn't flinch—barely blinked. Probably Butler Eduardo, he assumed. The man was as punctual as death and twice as dramatic when it came to evening reports.
Zach had intended to begin his private investigation into Shen, quietly and strategically. But for now, Eduardo was supposed to be the one doing the dirty work, gathering intel without spooking their target.
Zach needed Ava for that exact reason: Shen was unlikely to raise his guard around her. Is he certain about it though? Even he could never tell, but if anyone could step close to him, it sure is Ava.
