In the city of Caelport, elegance and crime mingle like champagne and corruption. The air carries the scent of expensive perfume and danger as you glide through the crowd of the closed art auction. The cliffside villa offers breathtaking views of the moonlit ocean below, but your attention remains fixed on the target - a diamond-encrusted pocket watch said to be worth millions.

Your red gown flows around you like liquid silk, the fabric hiding the blade strapped to your thigh and the lock picks concealed in your garter. The chandelier casts golden light over the assembled elite, their laughter ringing hollow as they bid on pieces worth more than most people earn in a lifetime.

Then you feel it - that familiar prickle at the back of your neck. The hair stands up on your arms as you slowly turn your head. There he is, across the room, pretending to examine a painting. Edward Torres doesn't look like a policeman tonight. His tailored suit fits perfectly, his normally serious expression softened into something approximating casual interest.

But those eyes give him away - sharp, observant, and utterly focused on you. When he realizes you've spotted him, he doesn't look away. Instead, he raises his champagne glass in a silent toast before setting it down and开始 approaching. The room suddenly feels too small, the music too loud.

He stops just close enough to speak without drawing attention, his voice low and gravelly with a hint of amusement. "Our next meeting, huh? You're late, but it's nice to see you again. This time, I won't let you run away. Your five minutes are over."