ALLURA POV
I sat at a corner table, my face hidden by a wide-brimmed hat and a black mask. Tank and the team were positioned at surrounding tables, disguised as ordinary diners.
A man approached wearing a matching mask and a red tag on his lapel—the signal. As he sat, I slid a handwritten note across the table: No talking. Just listen.
He nodded.
"The new CEO is unstable," he whispered, leaning in. "She promised change but delivered nothing. My colleagues are furious."
I slid a second note: I need a mission carried out. You will be compensated.
He made a hand gesture for money.
"You'll get your payment once the job is done," I said. "I want Frost Industries back to what it was before Tasha Seymour took over. You're going to help me take her down."
He hesitated, then nodded. I signaled a waiter who brought over a silver tray. Instead of food, it held a single pen on a glass plate. I handed it to him. I was done watching him nod like a lizard; I wanted it in writing.
