Chapter 168: Going To Hunt

"Ethan, stop!" Chloe called out, her heels clicking sharply behind me as she gave chase down the corridor. "Where do you think you’re going?!"

"To his apartment," I said, not slowing my stride for a second as the elevator doors slid open with a chime. "If he thinks he can take five hundred grand of Oliver’s cash and skip town before signing that affidavit, he’s dead wrong."

Chloe grabbed the edge of the elevator door, blocking it from closing, her dark eyes flashing with a mix of genuine worry and pure exasperation.

"Don’t take the law into your own hands, Ethan," she said, her voice dropping into that strict, firm register she used in court. "Don’t be ’Mr. Impulsive Thug’ in a different aspect! We have his wire transfers, we have the server logs, we have Rick’s testimony! We don’t need you breaking down doors and throwing hands!"

I paused right inside the cab. Slowly, I looked back over my shoulder at her, a slow, dangerous, completely unbothered smile spreading across my face.

Chloe took one look at that grin, threw her hands up in the air, and let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Oh, God," she muttered, shaking her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "You’re actually hopeless."

She stepped right into the elevator cab beside me, her heavy leather briefcase in one hand, pulling her black wool coat tight around her shoulders.

"I’m coming with you," Chloe said, giving me a sharp glare as the doors slid shut. "Because if you end up putting Jean-Luc through a wall, I need to be there to claim it was self-defense."

"Be my guest," I said, a faint smirk returning to my face as I reached down, taking her hand and lacing my fingers through hers.

We headed straight out to the parking garage, pulled out in the sleek black SUV, and tore through the city traffic toward the north side.

Ten minutes later, I pulled the vehicle to a smooth curb right across from a high-end, contemporary apartment complex. I killed the engine and stayed in the driver’s seat, my eyes fixed intently on the glass lobby doors.

Chloe leaned forward, resting her elbow on the dashboard as her eyes scanned the quiet facade of the building. "How are you so sure he’s even here, Ethan? He could be at a hotel, an airport, or halfway across the border by now."

"Because when we first flew him in from Paris to work with Benita, this is the exact luxury apartment we leased for him under UncuT’s corporate name," I said smoothly, watching the front entrance. "He hasn’t had time to move his personal belongings, and he definitely hasn’t cleared out his workbench setup inside. If he’s packing up his life to run, he has to come through this lobby."

"Fair enough," Chloe murmured, her grip tightening around her leather briefcase. "Let’s go get our signature."

We stepped out of the SUV into the cool afternoon air. I reached across, holding Chloe’s hand again as we walked up the concrete steps, past the quiet reception desk, and directly up to the third floor.

We stopped in front of Apartment 304.

I raised my fist and knocked firmly against the heavy oak door.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Silence.

I waited five seconds, then knocked again, harder this time. "Jean-Luc! Open the door!"

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Not a sound came from inside. No footsteps, no hurried rustling of papers, no sniveling excuses. Just a heavy, unnatural quiet that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Chloe tilted her head, stepping closer to the door frame. "Ethan... listen."

"The TV is on," Chloe whispered, her ear pressed near the wood. "I can hear faint background audio."

I didn’t bother knocking a third time. I reached down and turned the brass door handle—it clicked, gliding open effortlessly without a lock engaged.

We stepped into the apartment, the quiet hum of a high-definition screen echoing from the open living room.

Chloe took a slow step inside, her eyes sweeping over the vaulted ceilings, the custom Italian leather furniture, and the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the city skyline.

"Wow, Ethan..." Chloe murmured, looking around in genuine disbelief before turning back to me. "You really set him up like royalty. I shouldn’t be surprised, but still..."

"He had every luxury he asked for," I said, my voice cold as I took in the pristine, empty apartment. "Custom tailoring station, top-tier amenities, unlimited corporate expense line. And he still sold us out for half a million dollars."

"Where is he, though?" Chloe asked, stepping carefully toward the bedroom hallway. "The place feels deserted."

I walked over to his private office nook in the corner, my eyes landing on a heavy industrial wireless printer resting beside his design desk. A status light was blinking blue on the control panel, indicating an active queue.

I leaned over, tapped the touchscreen display, and clicked [REPRINT LAST FILE].

The machine whirred to life, feeding a crisp sheet of paper through the roller before dropping it into the tray.

I picked up the fresh, warm page, glancing down at the text, and a slow, lethal smirk pulled at my lips.

"Well, well, well," I said, turning the sheet around so Chloe could see it as she walked back into the room.

It was a confirmed airline itinerary and payment invoice—a first-class, one-way ticket to Zurich departing tonight at 9:30 PM.

Chloe read the name and flight details, her lips curving into that same sharp, dangerous smile.

"Zurich," she murmured softly, taking a sip of her coffee. "He thinks he’s stashing Oliver’s cash in a Swiss account and sipping espresso in the Alps before our indictment drops."

I slid the paper into my inner jacket pocket and looked at my watch.

"It’s 4:00 PM," I said, meeting Chloe’s eyes. "Our rat is probably sitting at a private airport terminal right now, waiting for his departure time."

"Then we’d better hurry," Chloe said, pulling her black wool coat tight and picking up her briefcase. "I’d hate for him to miss his flight."

"He won’t miss it," I said, pulling out my phone and tapping speed dial as we walked back toward the elevator. "Because he’s not even getting past the check-in desk."

I put the phone to my ear, and Sarah picked up on the first ring.