[Jake's POV]
The drive back from the Grand Lisboa was quiet.
The armored Maybach moved through the night like it was underwater. The engine was a low, muffled hum that I felt more in my chest than I heard. The windows were tinted black. Outside, Macau blurred past in long streaks of neon. Red, gold, white. They smeared across the glass every time it rained.
And it was raining.
Soft at first. Then harder. It tapped against the roof in a steady rhythm. Water ran down the windows in thin lines and distorted the lights outside. The air inside the car smelled like leather conditioner and the faint metallic tang of the AC.
The leather seats were cold against the back of my thighs.
