The cool Mediterranean night air felt intoxicating against Isla's bare shoulders as they exited the private VIP salon of the Casino de Monte-Carlo. Two of Nikolai's security operatives walked ten paces ahead carrying the sealed titanium transport case containing the automaton, while their armored Maybach waited at the curb of the Avenue des Beaux-Arts. The streets of Monaco were quiet at two in the morning, shrouded in a light coastal…
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