“Make sure there isn’t a single trace that can lead them back to me.”

Devandra’s voice was low — calm, but sharp as a blade.

He stood before the wide glass window of his office, staring at the city lights flickering beneath the night sky. Rain had just stopped, leaving misty droplets clinging to the glass, reflecting his own face — cold, expressionless, and calculating.

Across from him, Rafi — his right-hand man and head of operations — swallowed hard.

“We’ve started carrying out your orders, sir. The shell accounts have been rerouted. But Arga’s project is protected by two layers of external audits. It’s not easy to breach without...