The storm outside had long died down, but inside the crumbling estate at the edge of Milan, the silence was a living, breathing thing — thick, suffocating, and full of unspoken truths. Alessandro Romano sat by the flickering fire, his once-immaculate shirt stained with dried blood and regret. The smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air, clinging to him like the sins he could never wash away.

He hadn’t slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Isabella’s face — wide-eyed, terrified, betrayed.

His baby sister.

The one person he swore to protect.

And he’d failed her.

The creak of the door behind him made his...