The villa was bathed in the muted glow of dusk, shadows stretching long across marble floors and gilded walls. Elena moved through the corridors silently, her senses sharp and alert. Though the battle with Isabella was behind them, the war never truly ended. Danger had a way of creeping in when least expected, and Elena knew that survival meant anticipating threats before they struck.

Enzo stood in the strategy room, reviewing intelligence reports with a keen, unyielding focus. Every map, every dossier, every intercepted message had been meticulously analyzed, but something gnawed at him — an unease that refused to dissipate.

“Elena,” he said without looking up, voice low but...