Luciano's POV

 I can't sleep.

 It's 3 AM and I'm at the window again, watching the street below. Looking for threats that might not even exist. But that text message—those messages—they're not random.

 Someone's watching Amaya. Watching all of us.

 And I'm going to find them.

 Behind me, the bedroom is quiet. Amaya's tucked between Javier and Alvaro, finally sleeping after tossing and turning for hours. The bond shows she's restless even in sleep, dreaming of things I can't see but can feel through our connection.

 Fear. Uncertainty. The weight of being watched.

 My phone buzzes. Morrison, responding to my message from an hour ago.

 Morrison: Traced the number. Burner...