Ignatius Leclair's flight was scheduled for after 2 p.m. The man wore a handcrafted suit, paired with glasses whose gold rims reflected a cold sheen, concealing the stern sharpness in his eyes. Only the contours of his profile revealed a commanding aura.
Ignatius took a private passageway. Once he exited the airport, he boarded a designated car.
Delphine, waiting in the backseat, was almost about to doze off. Having rushed back to Southeast Asia on a long-haul flight and then spent a sleepless night, it wasn't until she inhaled the familiar scent of pine as the man entered the car that she realized Ignatius had arrived.
"You've lost weight." Ignatius wrapped his arms around her, his deep voice hoarse and low as he placed his hands on her delicate waist, which felt as though it could break with just a squeeze.
