We left the safehouse before dawn. Dante didn’t say a word while his men swept the place for listening devices, burned whatever could be traced, and loaded weapons into black duffels. He moved through it all like a shadow—silent, controlled, deadly.

I followed because I had no choice, my legs stiff from exhaustion, my heart still pounding from the kiss, from the gunfire, from everything. The city outside was still asleep, but I could feel eyes on us, like the world itself was closing in.

Dante’s hand settled at the small of my back as he guided me into the waiting SUV. His touch was protective, but it was also...