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    Jason let out a long sigh, collapsing onto the bed in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling with growing frustration.

    Ever since he had set foot in Macro, all he had done was wait.

    Wait for a contact.Wait for an opportunity.Wait for someone to acknowledge his presence.

    He hadn''t come here to play tourist. He was a negotiator, a man of the field, accustomed to high-stakes discussions, tense exchanges, and delicate power plays. In Afghanistan, in Iraq, he had convinced warlords to release hostages, persuaded arms dealers to betray their allies to save their own skin. He knew how to manipulate human psychology.

    But here...

    Here, no one wanted to talk to him.

    After a high-level meeting in Washington, the White House had decided to maintain its sanctions against Macro while simultaneously attempting to lure Monsieur X to their side. That was why Jason had been sent here.

    Since his arrival, he had made multiple attempts to secure a meeting with Monsieur X, but every time, he had hit a wall of polite indifference.

    Whenever he met with Macro officials, he felt as if they treated him like an inconvenient guest—tolerated only because he was a foreign diplomat. His superiors in Washington had promised him reliable contacts, but so far, they either didn''t exist or were utterly useless.

    The worst part?

    He hadn''t even seen Monsieur X in person yet.

    Monsieur X was a ghost, a phantom that drifted through the city without ever truly being seen. Even the highest-ranking officials in Macro had little direct interaction with him. He rarely gave interviews, never attended public events.

    Jason had spent hours analyzing the few available images and recordings of him, trying to decipher his personality, his thought process, his psychology. But all he had found were contradictions.

    Monsieur X was unpredictable.

    He could be serious and intimidating one moment, then sarcastic and playful in the next. A genius who seemed to operate by his own set of rules, openly mocking the norms of diplomacy and geopolitics.

    Powerful, elusive, and toying with the expectations of the entire world, how do you negotiate with someone who seems to answer to no authority?

    Jason had no idea.

    And it was driving him insane.

    He glanced at his phone. Nothing. No messages. No scheduled meetings. Not even a hint that he was making any progress.

    The moment he stepped outside, his heart pounded faster.

    The black car was still there.

    It moved smoothly through the night traffic, its tinted windows reflecting the neon glow of the city, an untouchable phantom slipping through the streets.

    Not tonight.

    Jason bolted toward the parking area, where his own car was waiting. He yanked the door open, slid inside, and slammed the engine to life.

    Tires screeched as he pulled out onto the road.

    "Come on, come on... stay in my sight" he muttered, gripping the wheel tightly.

    Merging into traffic, he kept his gaze locked on the black vehicle ahead.

    He had to be careful.

    Following a man like Monsieur X wasn''t something to take lightly. The man wasn''t just a genius, he was an enigma. A shadow surrounded by layers of security.

    Jason knew he wasn''t alone. There would be guards. Protocols. Countermeasures.

    He regulated his speed, keeping a safe distance to avoid drawing attention.

    Inside his head, he was already constructing a plan.

    "What do I do once I catch up to him?"

    "Wait for him to step out and approach him directly? Too risky."

    "Confront him in the middle of the street? Impossible."

    "Follow him and gather intel? Maybe."

    But he knew that wasn''t enough. He needed to find a way to force Monsieur X''s attention—to make him agree to a meeting.

    Then, Jason noticed something.

    The black car turned onto a quieter avenue, lined with administrative buildings and a few modern high-rises.

    "This might be my only chance."

    Taking a deep breath, he pushed the accelerator slightly, determined not to lose sight of his target.

    Tonight, no matter what it took, he was going to meet Monsieur X.