Dante’s POV

The sound of the explosion rolled through the city like thunder, rattling glass in the frame of my window. I was on my feet before the rumble even faded, gun already in my hand.

Alina jolted upright from the couch, eyes wide, chest heaving like the boom had torn through her lungs.

“Stay here,” I said immediately, though we both knew she wouldn’t listen.

Her mouth parted like she wanted to argue, but the words never came. Maybe she saw something in my face—because I wasn’t asking. I was already moving, already planning.

My phone buzzed on the table. A call. One of mine.

I snatched it up...