The earpiece crackles. “We have a problem,” says Agent Wolfe. You adjust your cufflinks, scanning the ballroom. Crystal chandeliers, velvet masks, dangerous secrets. Across the room, Isabella Greaves lifts a champagne flute—smirking. She has the briefcase.

Think fast.

Your watch vibrates. A coded message. Someone else is in play.

Behind you, the rookie leans in. “We need to move.”

Do you trust him? Or is he the one you should be watching?