The rain had eased, leaving the city glistening like a slick battlefield. Neon lights reflected in the puddles, fractured and dazzling, painting the streets in reds and blues, a mirror of the chaos that had become my life. My hands were still shaking from the warehouse fight, heart pounding not just from adrenaline, but from the lingering heat of Dante pressed against me, the brush of his skin and the promise in his eyes.

“We can’t stay here,” Dante muttered, his voice low and dark, carrying that lethal undertone that always made my pulse leap. He scanned the alley with sharp, predatory eyes, every muscle tense and ready. “They’ll regroup....