The first light of dawn painted Palermo in muted golds and greys, but the villa didn’t feel serene. Elena moved through the corridors, senses razor-sharp, every creak of floorboards or distant shout setting her nerves alight. Last night’s revelation of the mole had left a bitter taste — trust was fragile, loyalty fragile, and the Shadow had learned exactly where to strike next.

Enzo was already in the control room, scanning live feeds of the villa’s perimeter and the surrounding streets. His black suit was replaced with tactical gear, guns holstered and knives strapped to his thighs. His dark eyes met hers, a silent question in their depths.

“Are you...