ELENA’S POV
The knock came again.
Harder.
Metal rang through the hangar, the sound vibrating up through the floor and straight into my bones. Luca pressed his face into my chest, his fingers digging into my jacket like he could crawl inside me if he tried hard enough.
I didn’t tell him it was okay this time.
I didn’t trust my voice not to break.
Dante took one step forward, then another, slow and deliberate. He didn’t reach for the door yet. He stood there like he was weighing something invisible, like he was deciding how much damage he was willing to accept.
“Dante,” the man outside called again, almost amused now. “You’ve always been smart. Don’t make tonight the exception.”
Giovanni shifted beside the door, gun raised, eyes sharp. “Give the word,” he murmured.
Dante lifted a ha
