The sky had already dimmed into a soft indigo when Kendrick quietly stepped out of the tinted van parked a few blocks away from the restaurant.
He didn't want to draw any attention, especially not in this part of the city. The restaurant was a known spot for high-profile clientele, and cameras were subtly tucked in corners.
For someone who wanted to stay unnoticed, this place was the worst. But Reynold had chosen it.
Kendrick adjusted his baseball cap low over his brow and slipped on the rounded glasses he only wore when he wanted to look unrecognizable. A gray hoodie cloaked his upper body, and dark jeans made him blend in like any regular city dweller on a cool night.
The entrance was tucked behind a tall, black fence, the gold plaque reading "Maison Anz" barely visible unless someone knew where to look.
