Dante Cazador’s day had been a relentless storm of fires to extinguish and frustrations to endure. His jaw clenched as he thought about the chaos Romano was creating.

The old man was tearing through Acadia like a wounded bear, desperate to find his son’s killer.

In the meantime, he was leaving destruction and questions in his wake.

He was ruffling feathers that Dante had to be soothing.

Dante knew he should listen to what Mikhail had said and rein the man in, but he just wanted to cut the man some slack.

That might have to end soon.

Dante’s mind churned with plans to contain the situation.

But no strategy...