Linda loved the stars.
At least, that's what she told Alex when she asked to sketch on the rooftop terrace.
He'd smiled, kissed her cheek, and told the guards to give her space.
It was exactly what she wanted.
Alone.
Unwatched.
Unaware that velvet shadows had already begun to move.
—
She sat cross-legged beneath the open sky, tracing constellations into her notebook. The ruby ring caught moonlight, sparkling red.
A gust of wind swept across the terrace, but it was followed by something colder.
A hand.
Over her mouth.
Linda struggled—but another arm locked around her ribs.
The syringe bit into her neck.
And then—
Darkness.
—
Downstairs, Alex was in the war room, reviewing intel from the east coast.
Marco entered without knocking.
“Security feed's glitching again. Cameras
