"So, Master," ARIA's voice cut through the quiet hum of the engine, smooth and professional, saving me from further embarrassment at Isabella's teasing. "I've finished the analysis. With this plan, we will only need to wait two weeks before we initiate the Sterling Downfall Protocol."
Finally. Something that didn't make me want to commit vehicular homicide.
"How was it?' I asked through our mental link, my focus sharpening. "How fast will this be?"
"The hotel where you're planning to buy the penthouse for yourself and Isabella is on the verge of collapse," ARIA began, her tone carrying that distinctive edge of satisfaction she got when uncovering a goldmine of weakness. "After the death of their patriarch three months ago, the heirs—a daughter in banking and a son in oil—are quietly looking to sell. This information is not public; it's a whisper among LA's elite."
