Jax stepped outside the studio lot, frustration still simmering in his chest.
'First attempt wasted. Fucking wasted.'
The cool evening air did nothing to calm him. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes scanning the street for a taxi.
Then he noticed them.
Two guards. Professional. Sharp suits, earpieces, hands clasped in front. Standing beside a sleek black car with tinted windows.
They weren't looking at their phones. They were waiting.
For someone.
Jax stared as he walked past them. One of the guards turned his head.
"Wait, sir."
Jax stopped. 'Sir?'
The guard stepped forward. "Sir Jax, we're here to fetch you."
Jax blinked. "Me?"
"Yes. Madam President sent us to fetch you, sir."
'President? What the fuck?'
"What do you mean by president?" Jax asked slowly. "President of Neo Veridia or..."
