[Jake's POV]
The Wynn Macau penthouse was a gilded cage.
The air was cold. Too cold. It smelled like citrus cleaner and new carpet and money. The floors were pale marble. They reflected the ceiling lights in soft pools. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the entire Cotai Strip. Gold, red, white. Neon bleeding into the late afternoon sky. Far below, people moved like ants. Cars crawled along the avenue.
I stood by the glass, looking out over the glittering expanse. The suite was massive. Cream and gold furniture. A bar that cost more than most cars. But it felt suffocating. The walls were too far apart and too close at the same time.
I couldn't pace. I couldn't check the perimeter. I couldn't drop the posture of Julian Croft. Even in private, the immersion had to be absolute. Julian didn't pace. He didn't check corners. He poured a drink and watched the view.
