Palermo’s streets were quiet, deceptively so. Elena stood at the villa’s terrace, arms crossed, eyes scanning the city below. The early morning sun glinted off the wet cobblestones, reflecting an eerie calm that made her skin crawl. The Council had been beaten back, but they were never truly gone. They were patient predators, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Enzo joined her silently, his presence a dark anchor amidst the tension. He didn’t speak immediately; he simply stood beside her, his eyes following every movement in the streets below.

“They’ll come tonight,” he said finally, voice low, gravelly. “And when they do, it won’t be just a hit. They’ve...