The city had grown quiet after the storm, but for the Moretti heir, silence was just the breath before violence.
Damian Moretti was done bleeding. Tonight, others would.
---
The underground garage was filled with the low rumble of engines, the smell of oil and gunpowder hanging thick in the air. Damian’s men assembled, black-clad and armed, faces grim under the flickering fluorescent lights.
Marco leaned against a car, watching Damian pace like a caged predator. “You’re planning something big,” he said. “Something reckless.”
Damian stopped, turning slowly, his eyes sharp enough to cut glass. “Not reckless. Necessary. Rossi thinks he can cage her. Isabella thinks she can poison me. They’re wrong.” He raised his hand, the scarred knuckles catching the light. “Tonight, they’ll learn what
