314 Arrival in Brussels

(Jayden)

I step out of the jet, and the crisp European air hits me immediately—cleaner, cooler. It smells faintly of rain, earth, and something else I can’t place. It feels... old. Ancient, even.

This place has history, layers of it.

At the bottom of the stairs, I spot the two men I was told would be waiting. Viktor Balázs, head of security, stands with his arms folded across his chest.

He’s tall and built like he could take down a bear with his bare hands. Dressed in black tactical gear, his stance is solid, like nothing could knock him over.

His face is set, but there’s an ease in the way he carries himself. I’ve read his file—ex-military, Hungarian, a force of nature in his field.

Next to him stands Hugo Devereux, the man Gus has trusted for decades. He’s everything I imagined: tall, lean, and dripping with French superiority. The way his gray hair is slicked back, his sharp suit perfectly tailored, it’s like he’s stepped out of some European fashion magazine.

He’s got the air of s