The war started in the quiet.
It wasn’t bullets or blood at first. It was breath. A look. The way the silence shifted around a room full of men trained to kill and the girl they couldn't bear to lose.
Me.
I hadn’t always known what I was. I’d spent years pretending I was just angry. That the rage in my bones was mine, not planted there like a seed waiting for ignition.
But the folder Evelyn dropped told a different story.
And I was done pretending.
"Three days," I said again, running my finger over the red-inked date beside my name. “That’s all we’ve got.”
Luca crossed his arms. “Three days is enough.”
"Not to run," Matteo added, voice dry, eyes locked on Evelyn. "But maybe to end it before they do."
Nico didn't speak. But he stepped closer, the way he always did when things got d
