Page 59 of Dalla's Royal Guards

Detri leaned back in his chair and answered with one word. “Stella.”

The curse that erupted was louder this time. Sharp and vicious.

“You’re insane,” Gunther growled. “You think she’ll take orders?”

“No,” Detri said coolly. “But I think she’ll follow instinct. And hers is lethal.”

He could see it now—Stella’s precision, her cold efficiency.

“Tell Kyle to book a room at the Simdan,” he continued. “And make damn sure he gets access to the hotel’s internal systems. I want eyes at every angle.”

“And Stella? How do you plan on controlling her?” Gunther asked again, hesitating this time.

Detri’s gaze turned to the window. Across from him was another building with no lights. He could see his face reflected in the glass.

The image of Dalla flickered in his mind like a glitch in reality—her face aglow, wings shimmering in a light that didn’t come from the sun.

Who better to fight an angel… than the devil herself?

“Just make sure Kyle’s in place. I’ll handle Stella,” he said, hanging up.

He didn’t hesitate. He opened his contact list and called the only number stored there. It rang once.

“Detri,” came a smooth, female voice. “You haven’t called me in a while. Should I be flattered… or worried that you’re calling me now?”

“I have a job for you,” he said. No preamble.

“Tell me.”

He did. Everything: the woman, the impossible, the erasure of data, the security breach, the hotel.

Stella didn’t interrupt. She was quiet after he finished. The ticking of the clock on the wall grew louder the longer the silence stretched. He was about to ask her if she had any questions when she spoke.

“I’ll be there within three hours.”

He lowered the phone when the line went dead and stared it before he placed it on the floor. Picking up the hammer, he gripped it firmly before he brought it down. Each blow was intentional.

The phone shattered under the blows, its pieces scattering like bones across the floor. He exhaled slowly and set the hammer aside. Rising to his feet, he collected the broom and dustbin hanging near the door, swept up the fragmented pieces, and dumped the remains of the phone into the metal trash can beside the table.

Calling in Stella was a risk. Kramer wouldn’t like it. He would call it reckless. Unauthorized. Dangerous.

Detri didn’t care.

This was no longer just about toppling a royal family. Or hoarding a mineral that could take the world’s technology to its knees.

This… was about something bigger.

Immortality.

If he could find the secret—bottle it, replicate it—he wouldn’t justinfluencespace travel or weapons development.

He wouldownthem.

He could bring the most powerful men on the planet to their knees. Rewrite borders. Outlive empires.

Immortality wasn’t a myth. He had seen it now. Tasted it in the image of a woman who wasn’t supposed to exist.

And he would find her.