Sophie stood on the balcony, overlooking the lake. Camellia had gone to bed early. Rachel was still on security debrief. Alexander joined her, handing her a fresh glass of wine. “Feels like the end of something,” she said.

“It’s not,” he replied. “It’s the beginning.”

He pulled her into his arms.

And for the first time in weeks, she let herself believe it.

The Geneva suite was quiet.

Too quiet.

Sophie sat alone at the edge of the bed, the sounds of Lake Geneva muffled behind triple-glazed windows. The air smelled like lavender and leather — a fragrance she usually found calming. But tonight, her instincts were louder than the...