Small apartment buildings were standing next to each other on the outskirts of the city, and Sinclair felt a pang of relief as his eyes landed on the midnight blue car, standing alone in the parking lot. He stepped out of his SUV and approached with confident strides. It still baffled him how a student could afford such a model. His instincts told him something wasn't right, and experience had taught him that his instincts were never wrong.

A thin veil of mist curled through the trees at the edge of the forest, and a sharp, icy wind whipped against him. With a grimace, he pulled his cap lower over his face and shoved his hands into his pockets. At least he'd been lucky enough to get the weekend off. The snow crunched beneath his boots, and despite it being midday, the place felt deserted. Not a single soul crossed his path. How the hell was he supposed to figure out where this woman lived? Was he supposed to check every doorbell and hope for the best?

His patience was already wearing thin at the thought. If he could, he would rip off Stanford's head. He would have never ended up in this shitty situation if it wasn't for him. His icy gaze scanned the elegant sports car and then checked the surroundings. "Fine." He muttered to himself before pulling out a small multitool out of his pocket. It wasn't the first time he was doing it, and the Lass wouldn't even notice that her car had been opened. His fingers moved with practiced precision as he wedged the tool into the gap between the window and the door. Within moments, the familiar sound of the lock clicking open reached his ears.

Carefully, he opened the door and was greeted by the scent of vanilla and roibos mixed with the faint smell of expensive leather. His eyes started searching the car while he replayed all memories of the evening. The drunk idiot who grabbed him and almost fell—if he lost the dog tag around that time, it's position should be under the drivers seat. With quick movements, he checked the drivers seat, then the door pockets and the back seats. Frustration started flooding him when all the suspected spots remained empty. How the hell was that possible? Did she really find it?

Before he could close the car door, a flicker of movement caught his eye in one of the side mirrors.

He spun around quickly, instincts kicking in, and his cold gaze met a pair of brown eyes. Sinclair stopped for mere seconds, taking in her appearance. Indeed, she was gorgeous. Her large, doe-like eyes seemed innocent, framed by long lashes that underlined their warmth. High cheekbones and a long nose gave her an elegant, almost royal appearance. Silky dark hair was put back into a sleek ponytail while she covered herself in an oversized white fur jacket.

Only now he realized her shocked expression, and suddenly he remembered the situation.

"I lost something." He exclaimed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "And you just decided to break into my fucking car?!" She hissed, still shocked. "Is that a British thing?" She continued before heading towards him. Her high heels clicked on the asphalt. "I am not British." He replied. "I do not care." Angrily, she grabbed her purse, and suddenly his body tensed. Is this witch going to use pepper spray? "I didn't know your name or where you live." He knew he had to apologize, but, oh, he was bad at it.

"Well, normal people would ask for it or just try ringing every doorbell!" "Yeah... but I didn't even know in which house you live." Sinclair crossed his arms, and a short flicker of amusement came over him when he saw how she copied his gesture—even if it was unintentional. "It better be like that, otherwise you would break into my apartment too." Still angry, her brown eyes stared him down.

"Listen, I am sorry. I did not intend to steal anything or do anything bad. I just wanted to get back my necklace." He let out a deep breath, and she raised an eyebrow. "You mean your dogtag?" Now he was the one to raise his eyebrows. "Yes." "What are the Brits doing here?" She tried to make it look like an innocent question, but he could see it in her eyes. There was a hint of fear. He knew something was off. "Just routine work. You know NATO has it's bases everywhe -." "Not here." She interrupted. It was way too fast.

"Well, they are establishing one right now." He did not even blink when he was lying. Being a good liar was incredible useful, but he hated it. "Really?" The young woman did seem vary of his explanation. "Why do you care so much anyway?" Sinclair was quick in changing the focus back to her. She replied with a shrug. "I wanted to stay here after my study." "And why should NATO interrupt you in doing this?" "I am just curious, that is all." She stretched her hand out, giving him his dog tag. "Wystan Sinclair is an interesting name."

"Scottish." He explained shortly. Before stepping back, he hesitated.

It would be good to know her name. In case something was really wrong with her.

"What is your name then?" She blinked a few times before a small smile reached her lips. "It is Diyani Koleman." "Which is also an interesting name." He replied, keeping up his faked interest.