The city was cloaked in a heavy silence that felt almost unnatural. Streetlights flickered intermittently, casting fractured shadows along narrow alleys. Isabella’s fingers brushed Dante’s as they navigated the darkened streets, a connection that was as grounding as it was electrifying. Every movement, every whisper of air, felt heightened after the chaos of the past night. Vittorio’s defeat had been a victory, but the knowledge that he still had hidden allies gnawed at her.

Dante’s presence was magnetic—every step he took seemed to assert control over the chaos surrounding them. Yet, despite his confidence, there was a weight in his gaze that only she could perceive. Isabella glanced at him,...