Lily could only speculate; their methods were baffling. "They're too secretive," she mused, "and Mike was right—a powerful force backs this organization. Still, we can't surrender; even a small pebble can cause a stumble."

The man tapped his cane, his blue eyes assessing her. Lily realized her impatience. Confinement and uncertainty had eroded her composure.

She decided against further questions, taking a sip of water. A tense silence followed, a silent contest of wills.

After ten minutes, he leaned back, relaxing his grip on his cane. "Mrs. Russell," he said, "I've tried to schedule an appointment, but you refused. Two more days' wait seems fair, wouldn't you say?"

Lily raised an eyebrow. If I remember correctly, this is our first meeting. What is he talking about?

His casual demeanor and faint smile prompted quick thinking. Considering the possibilities, she studied him quietly. A conclusion formed. "You were the one who approached me about creating a custom perfume, weren't you?"

He nodded, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Yes and no. I was only a middleman."

"On whose behalf?"

"Let's not dwell on that. You turned me down, didn't you?" He smiled, yet his tone implied blame.

Lily chuckled coldly. "Why would I refuse, except for your research? You should know why I declined."

"Initially, we wanted…" He paused, lowering his head with a smile. "It no longer matters. We're working toward a common goal, aren't we?"

"Not really," Lily countered. "You forced me. I didn't do it for your 'common goal.' Stop beating around the bush. I know R10 isn't complete. And if I'm not mistaken, the final step involves using the virus on me, doesn't it?"