The night had fallen over the city like a heavy velvet curtain, concealing shadows and whispers in equal measure. Isabella paced the dimly lit safe house, her heart a chaotic drum in her chest. Every sound—an errant car horn, the distant bark of a dog—felt like a signal, a warning. Dante had gone out earlier to investigate a lead about Lucia’s whereabouts, and the minutes stretched like hours.

Isabella pressed her hands to her temples, trying to steady herself. She had thought the flash drive had been the key to unraveling the enemy’s schemes, but what she had uncovered tonight was far more sinister. Lucia had not only manipulated the...