Nicholas had worked with all kinds of clients over the years.

Some hired him because they were absolutely terrified. Some because they were profoundly paranoid. Some simply because they had entirely too much money and nowhere useful to spend it. He'd dealt with CEOs convinced their competitors were deploying high-tech espionage, politicians demanding impossible levels of discretion, and high-profile actors wanting protection from obsessive stalkers. He'd watched divorcing couples pay obscene, six-figure sums just to prove the other half was cheating. One particularly memorable millionaire had once hired him solely to recover a stolen championship poodle.

People lied. Constantly. Sometimes they lied to Nicholas, but mostly, they lied to themselves. His job was rarely to actually believe them; it was to separate the hard truth from whatever convenient fiction they happened to be selling that week.

Usually, that filtering process took less than five minutes. Then he had... whatever the hell this was.

Nicholas glanced sideways. Avinash stood right beside him, his hands buried deep inside the pockets of an aggressively oversized hoodie. How did it not cross this idiot's mind that he would stand out like a sore thumb in a prestigious, high-society gathering like this? He supposed being young and naive had its definite cons.

And on top of that, the kid was entirely willing to hire his strange roommate with absolutely no money to his name. Nicholas would normally not call himself strange under regular circumstances, but their very first interaction had involved Nicholas literally throwing him against a wall. He'd fully expected Avinash to think he was a lunatic. That was, until the newest realization hit him: the kid knew significantly more about Nicholas than Nicholas would have ever anticipated.

Nicholas found himself genuinely wondering how someone could look that physically exhausted while still stubbornly refusing to quit.

"...Boaz," Nicholas said at last, breaking the heavy silence.

"Mm."

"The grieving brother."

"Mm."

"The billionaire."

"Mm."

"The one who currently owns half the people in this building."

Avi frowned slightly. "...Technically, his brother owns it."

Nicholas pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive headache forming. "You want me to follow him."

"Correct."

"...For free."

"Correct."

"...Tonight."

"Preferably."

Nicholas stared at him. Avi stared right back, completely unfazed.

"..."

"..."

"You are without a doubt the worst negotiator I have ever met in my life."

"I know."

Nicholas let out a sharp sigh. "Walk."

"What?"

Without waiting for an answer, Nicholas turned on his heel and cut straight into a dim service corridor. Footsteps immediately fell into a tight, quiet rhythm right beside him. Good. The kid wasn't stupid enough to ask where they were going. Yet.

"When did you lose him?" Nicholas asked, keeping his voice low.

"About ten minutes before I ran into you."

"How?"

"I got spotted."

"By Boaz?"

"Catering."

Nicholas stopped for a fraction of a second, looking down at him. "You were actively defeated by waiters."

"They had radios."

"They had appetizers."

"They had radios and appetizers."

Nicholas decided it was best not to ask.

As they moved deeper through the concrete maze of service passages, his attention wandered automatically, scanning the environment by pure instinct. Emergency exit. Camera. Blind corner. Freight elevator. Another camera. Convex mirror. Two security guards rotating posts every-

"...You're doing it again."

Nicholas looked over. "What?"

"The thing."

"What thing?"

"The robot scan."

"I'm just walking."

"You literally mapped every single camera in the last thirty seconds."

Nicholas kept his gaze forward. "...Maybe."

Avi looked unbearably pleased with himself for catching it. Annoying.

"What exactly did you hear?" Nicholas asked, shifting the focus back.

The brief amusement instantly faded from Avi's face, replaced by a cold sobriety. "...Not much."

"What did you hear, Avi?"

Avi was quiet for a few steps, the rubber soles of his sneakers squeaking faintly against the concrete. "Boaz met someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Couldn't see his face."

"What was said?"

"...'You still couldn't find it?'"

Nicholas stayed silent, absorbing the phrasing.

"'Find it before she does,'" Avi continued.

Another sharp turn into a narrower corridor.

"'Before tomorrow noon.'"

Nicholas stopped walking abruptly. Avi halted right beside him, his brow furrowing.

"...'She,'" Nicholas repeated softly.

"That's exactly what caught my attention."

"Do you know who 'she' is?"

"No."

"Do you know what 'it' is?"

"No."

Nicholas looked down at him, deadpan. "So..."

Avi sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "So I know absolutely nothing."

"..."

"..."

"I honestly thought saying it out loud to a professional might help."

"It didn't."

For a moment Nicholas considered everything he'd just heard. He didn't focus on the words themselves; he focused entirely on the gaps. Amateur investigators always focused heavily on what was explicitly said. Professionals paid attention to what wasn't.

Boaz wasn't looking for a person. He was looking for an object. Something physical. And whatever that thing was-someone else was already close enough to find it first.

Nicholas exhaled slowly, the gears shifting in his mind. "Okay."

Avi blinked, caught off guard. "...Okay?"

"You don't need someone to follow Boaz."

"I literally just said-"

"You need someone nobody notices to track the perimeter around Boaz," Nicholas cut him off cleanly.

Avi frowned, trying to follow the logic. "...That's different."

"It is." Nicholas turned his head, his sharp gaze cutting back toward the heavy doors leading to the main ballroom. "We're not looking for Boaz tonight."

Avi's brows knitted tightly together.

"We're looking for the man he just threatened."

Avi frowned, matching his pace. "Why exactly?"

Nicholas started walking again, his long strides effortless despite the tight bandages bracing his ribs. "People like Boaz don't leave evidence," he said evenly. "They pay other people to leave it for them."

Avi quickly fell into step beside him. "So... we find the weakest link?"

"Yes."

The corridor narrowed significantly, rough concrete entirely replacing the polished marble of the main venue. The muffled, elegant sounds of the gala faded behind thick, sound-dampening service walls.

Nicholas glanced sideways. "When exactly did this happen?"

Avi glanced down at his bare wrist out of habit. "Around four."

"Around?"

Avi grimaced. "...Four-ten. Maybe."

Nicholas gave a single nod. "Distance."

"What?"

"How far away were you?"

"I don't know."

"Estimate."

"...Twenty meters."

"Lighting?"

"Dim."

"Height?"

"Taller than me."

"So is most of the population."

Avinash glared.

"Witnesses?"

"I was hiding."

"That's not what I asked."

"...No."

Nicholas continued forward, his eyes scanning the empty corridor. "The first lesson I was ever taught," he said after a moment of quiet, "had absolutely nothing to do with fingerprints."

Avi looked over as they turned another sharp corner. "People don't remember events, Avi. They remember stories." He glanced down at the younger man. "My job isn't to hear the story. It's to strip it away until all that's left are pure observations."

Silence settled heavily between them.

"So," Nicholas continued, "you didn't hear two men arguing. You heard one man ask where something was."

Avi thought about it for a beat. "...Yeah."

"You didn't see Boaz lose his temper."

"I saw him threaten someone."

"...Yeah. And you don't know why."

"...No."

Nicholas nodded. "Good."

Avi blinked. "...Good?"

"It means you haven't started inventing answers to fill the blanks."

A tiny, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Avi's mouth. "I thought investigators were supposed to make brilliant deductions."

"They are." Nicholas pushed open another heavy, metal fire door. "They just don't do it before collecting the evidence."

+++

They emerged into another stark service corridor. A few security personnel moved briskly through the opposite end of the hall, entirely too occupied with the massive logistics of the gala to spare them a single glance.

Avi shoved his hands deeper into his oversized hoodie. "So what counts as evidence?"

"Cameras."

"You think there are cameras back here?"

"I know there are."

"You've been here before?"

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

Nicholas pointed upward without breaking his stride. A small, smoked-glass dome protruded discreetly from the concrete ceiling. "Because rich people sue."

Avi followed the trajectory of his finger. "...Huh."

"Cameras are significantly cheaper than lawsuits." A reluctant, quiet laugh escaped Avi.

They stopped abruptly outside an unmarked, grey security door featuring a small frosted window and an electronic access reader. There was no grand signage, only a discreet brass plaque: SURVEILLANCE CONTROL.

Avi looked between the heavy door and Nicholas.

Nicholas calmly pressed the call button beside the frame. Nothing. He pressed it a second time.

Footsteps approached from the inside. Heavy locks clicked in sequence. The door opened a cautious few inches, and a tired, middle-aged guard poked his head out, blinking in the dim light. "Yeah?"

Nicholas smiled politely, his entire demeanor shifting into something entirely unthreatening. "Sorry to bother you. The ballroom coordinator sent me. The west corridor smoke detector is throwing false alarms again."

The guard frowned, rubbing his eyes. "It is?"

"So I'm told."

The man let out a heavy sigh. "Bloody maintenance..." He stepped fully into the hallway, letting the heavy door rest against its latch. "Show me."

Nicholas moved aside gracefully to let him pass. Then, the moment the guard's back was turned, a folded cloth appeared in Nicholas's hand.

One smooth, practiced movement. An arm locked around the man's shoulders. The cloth firmly covered his mouth and nose.

The guard jerked violently once. Twice. Then his limbs went completely limp. Nicholas caught his full weight expertly before he could hit the floor.

Avi stared, his eyes wide. "...That..."

Nicholas eased the unconscious man down gently against the concrete wall.

"...Actually worked."

"It usually does." Nicholas reached into the guard's uniform pocket, produced the electronic access card, and swiped it against the reader. The lock disengaged with a soft, electronic click.

Nicholas pushed the door open, revealing rows of surveillance monitors glowing brightly inside the dark control room. slipped inside first, his eyes automatically sweeping the layout.

Six monitors. Three workstations. A server cabinet. No secondary exits. Good.

He eased the unconscious guard back into one of the two chairs available, adjusting the man's headset until he looked less like an assault victim and more like an employee who had simply dozed off during a boring night shift. Avi shut the door quietly behind them, cutting off the hallway.

The surveillance software was already running across the center monitor. Nicholas dropped into the remaining chair and reached for the mouse.

"West service corridor..." he muttered, scanning the camera index. Loading bay. Freight elevators. There. He clicked.

A stark login prompt flashed onto the screen.

ADMINISTRATOR PRIVILEGES REQUIRED.

Nicholas frowned. He tried the guard's credentials from the active session.

ACCESS DENIED.

He tried again. Same result.

Nicholas navigated another route through the system. Archives. Same prompt. Live feeds. Same prompt.

Someone had split the surveillance network into operational and administrative access. It was standard enough for a corporation of this size, but irritating enough for tonight. Nicholas sat back, letting go of the mouse. "...Damn."

A quiet, steady voice came from right beside him. "...Protected partition."

Avi leaned over his shoulder, his eyes locked on the code structure.

"What?" Nicholas asked.

"Move."

Nicholas looked up, matching his gaze. "...Excuse me?"

"Let me see it."

For three long seconds, Nicholas simply looked at him. Then, with an exhale somewhere between total resignation and deep curiosity, he stood and stepped aside. "Be my guest."

Avi slid into the chair.

Nicholas stood beside him, folding his arms.

He wasn't expecting much. Maybe the kid knew enough to poke around Windows settings or search a few menus. University students loved overestimating their technical abilities.

Then Avi rested his fingertips on the keyboard. And Nicholas quietly stopped underestimating him.

Gone was the sleep-deprived university student who in major part of his existence looked deeply offended by existence itself. The kid sat perfectly still in front of the six surveillance monitors, the pale blue glow washing across his features. His fingers moved with effortless precision over the keys, one command bleeding seamlessly into the next. There was zero hesitation. No frantic typing. No clumsy trial and error. Just absolute certainty.

Interesting.

Nicholas had thoroughly looked into Avinash the very day he learned the kid could dismantle firearms. University records. Scholarship details. Part-time jobs. Ordinary school transcripts. A few regional karate tournaments. A dead best friend. Everything had fit together into the painfully ordinary profile of a broke nineteen-year-old trying very hard to survive.

The boy sitting in front of him right now was anything but ordinary.

"How much longer?" Nicholas asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the terminal.

"No talking." Avinash didn't even glance up to acknowledge him.

Another security layer flashed across the monitor, demanding authentication.

Three precise keystrokes. A short, elegant script.

ACCESS GRANTED.

Very interesting. The file hadn't lied about Avinash Vyas; it had simply failed to mention that its owner had a rather concerning set of life skills for an ordinary nineteen-year old.

"Got it," Avi murmured.

Every single camera surrounding the west service wing unfolded across the monitors.

"There." Avi froze one specific frame.

Boaz appeared on screen. Perfect tuxedo. Perfect posture. Perfect smile. The second man remained deliberately outside the camera's primary angle, a shadow against the wall.

"Damn it..." Avi muttered.

"Keep going," Nicholas commanded.

The footage rolled forward. Boaz disappeared back toward the luxury of the ballroom. The stranger headed in the exact opposite direction, entirely alone.

Camera Four. Camera Seven. Loading dock. Freight elevator. Parking level.

"There," Nicholas said, pointing.

The man stepped into the underground garage. Another camera caught him crossing between rows of parked luxury vehicles. Then-nothing. The next feed skipped right ahead. The man was completely gone.

Avinash frowned, rewriting a timeline query. "They've got dead zones."

"No." Nicholas leaned closer to the screen, his eyes tracking the geometry of the pillars. "They've got blind spots."

Avi looked sideways. "...There's a difference?"

"One is bad design," Nicholas said, pointing toward the loading bay layout. "The other is entirely intentional."

Avi looked back at the footage, replaying the final few seconds of the stranger's trajectory. "...Huh."

He reached into his pocket and produced a small flash drive.

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "You carry those around?"

"I have anxiety. This is my fidget toy."

"...Rather an interesting design for a fidget toy, might I add."

"It is." Avi smirked.

The footage began copying over to the drive. Thirty-eight percent. Fifty-one. Eighty-two. Complete.

Without a word, Avi opened another black window. Nicholas watched the command line rapidly populate. "What are you doing now?"

"Cleaning."

His fingers flew again. Access logs. Session history. Authentication records. One after another, the system files disappeared into nothingness.

"You erase your footprints," Nicholas observed.

Avi shrugged without looking away from the screen. "Habit."

Nicholas studied the profile of his face for a long moment. That's a habit, huh? Nicholas decided it explained significantly more than he had ever wanted to know.

The radio resting on the unconscious guard's shoulder suddenly crackled to life with harsh static. "Control to the Surveillance Room Two."

Neither of them moved.

"Surveillance Room Two, respond."

Nicholas picked it up smoothly, pressing the button. "Surveillance Room Two, responding."

Static. Then: "Security's still looking for that hooded kid from the ballroom. Last visual was west service. Sweep every room."

Nicholas slowly turned his head. Avinash looked up from the keyboard, his fingers pausing.

"...Oops," Avi offered softly.

"You," Nicholas said flatly, "are the exact reason half this building is working overtime tonight."

"In my defense-"

"Don't."

The radio crackled again. "Surveillance Room Two. Status?"

Nicholas set it back down on the unconscious guard's shoulder without answering. He looked at Avi over his shoulder. "Done?"

"Almost."

Outside the room, the distinct sound of footsteps echoed. More than one pair. Closing in fast. The door handle gave a tentative, metallic rattle. Locked.

"Shit." Nicholas looked at the door, his muscles tightening.

Another rattle. Louder this time. Someone knocked heavily on the frosted glass. "Control. Open up."

Nicholas's posture shifted instantly. One step. Weight forward. Ready to drop whoever came through.

Behind him, Avi pressed one final key with a sharp click.

Every monitor flickered violently. The emergency lights throughout the surveillance room instantly began blinking an ominous red. A single heartbeat later-

WHOOP. WHOOP. WHOOP.

The building's main fire alarm erupted throughout the entire hotel, deafeningly loud.

Nicholas closed his eyes for exactly one second. "...Did you just trigger the building's fire alarm?"

"...Maybe."

"I did not tell you to do that."

"You also didn't tell me not to."

Nicholas gave him a look that promised this conversation was far from over. Then, he stepped directly into Avi's personal space. The younger man instinctively froze.

Nicholas hooked two fingers beneath the edge of the hood and pulled it down firmly, exposing Avi's dark hair. The black mask followed, tucked neatly into the front pocket of his suit.

"...Why?"

"They're looking for a hooded kid."

Avi blinked.

"...Oh."

"So don't look like one."

His hands made two quick, expert adjustments to the kid's crooked collar before settling briefly against Avi's shoulder, eyes locking onto the younger.

"Head down," Nicholas said quietly. "Don't look at security."

Avi blinked, adjusting to the sudden shift.

"No matter what, don't talk."

He steered Avinash toward the exit. "Walk."