The Mountain Villa was silent when Chen Ying returned, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway—a sound that usually brought comfort but now felt like a countdown to an invisible explosion.
Chen Ying didn't go to bed. She went to her study, the lights dimmed, the glow of three different monitors reflecting in her dark, obsidian eyes. The study belonged to her late mother and now it was hers. It was minimal, a place for focus, not for luxury.
"Start with the plate," she muttered to the empty room, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
She had memorized the license plate of the silver Mercedes-Maybach with photographic precision. It was a standard-issue plate from the capital's central division—the kind given to vehicles registered to corporations or high-ranking government officials. But when she plugged it into the public registry database that she'd spent the last hour covertly gaining access to, it came back as 'Registration Pending'.
