The storm had moved inland, leaving the city smelling of oil and wet asphalt. Emilia’s penthouse windows glistened with beads of rain, the skyline sharp and cold beyond.
Rafael leaned over the map again, tapping the dockyard junction with a pen. “We’ll put the decoy shipment here. Cesare’s people will hear about it before the ink dries.”
Emilia sat across from him, fingers drumming lightly on the table. “And when they come?”
“We make sure they don’t leave.”
There was no flinch in his tone, no hesitation. That was what made him dangerous, not just to Cesare, but to her. Because when Rafael looked at her, she saw more than a man planning an ambush. She saw the man who had killed Dario without blinking.
And she had been there.
~ ~
The night they scouted the docks, the air was thick wi
