The crack in the ceiling above her desk hadn’t been there yesterday.
Emilia stared at it like it might split the entire room open. The paint was pristine, the chandelier polished to a merciless sheen, but that single jagged line in the plaster screamed louder than any threat Cesare could issue.
Because the crack was growing.
Just like the one inside her.
“Cesare froze the second wire transfer from Hong Kong,” Nora said, voice quiet but tight. “The one tied to the Moretti shipping contracts.”
Emilia didn’t flinch, though the walls felt like they were inching closer.
“How?” she asked.
“He claimed breach of trust. He leveraged Dario’s old codes- ones we assumed were dead.”
Emilia stood, walked to the window, and looked out at the city. “He’s not going to stop.”
“No. This isn’t about
