Elena's POV
I hadn't looked at Janelle's messages when my phone started ringing again.
Janelle's number flashed on the screen. I picked up immediately. "Hey."
"Hey, Elena. Did you get my text?" Her voice sounded strangely composed.
"Yes."
"Can we meet in Kensington House in five minutes? Please. It's urgent like I texted. I'll see you there," Janelle said before hanging up.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
Kensington House - I remembered that restaurant from my Imperial Media days.
But revisiting familiar territory wasn't what twisted my gut. It was Janelle's flat tone and abrupt goodbye that bothered me.
My reporter instincts kicked in. Something felt wrong, and curiosity got the better of me.
Janelle obviously wanted to discuss Marcus's situation, and Kensington House was public enough. How bad could it get?
I leaned toward the driver. "Kensington House, please."
He nodded and switched routes. Minutes later, we pulled up to the destination.
