The rain in Rome came like whispers that morning, gentle, deceitful. Just like the letter Liam held in his hand.
It had arrived without warning. No return address. Just his name in looping, familiar cursive.
Liam.
There are truths even Nova doesn’t know.
Meet me. Alone. No guards. No Nova. If you care about your daughter’s life, you’ll come.
Midnight. Ponte Sisto. Burn this.
He read it three times. Then he did as the note said.
He burned it.
But the words… branded his soul.
Liam didn’t tell Nova.
Not because he wanted to keep secrets.
But because he already had.
For years.
Before Nova… before Cassia… before the war between families ignited, Liam Ashford had worn a different face. One Nova didn’t know. One the world had forgotten.
A name buried in government files.
A ghost in
