The villa had never felt so tense. Even in the dead of night, when most of the city slept beneath the quiet hum of streetlights, Elena moved like a predator, senses sharp, instincts honed. Every shadow could hide an enemy, every sound could signal an ambush.

Enzo walked beside her, silent but vigilant. His presence was both grounding and igniting — a reminder of everything at stake. “You’ve been quiet,” he murmured, his voice low, almost intimate.

“I’m calculating,” Elena replied. “Every move, every strategy. We have an enemy who doesn’t just play the game. They rewrite it.”

Enzo’s dark eyes flicked toward her. “Then we rewrite it back.”

Her...