The early morning fog lingered over the city like a thin veil, softening the edges of streetlights and casting long shadows across the deserted avenues. Isabella’s coat clung to her shoulders as she walked beside Dante, their footsteps muffled against the wet pavement. Every sense was on alert, every nerve coiled like a spring. Tonight, Vittorio’s game would end—or escalate beyond their worst expectations.

Dante’s hand brushed hers as they navigated the labyrinthine back streets. It was a fleeting touch, but it sent heat rushing through her veins, a dangerous distraction at a time when focus was everything. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice low and steady,...