The wind cut sharp on the Prague rooftop, slicing through Sienna’s coat like knives.
She didn’t flinch.
She’d grown used to the cold.
It reminded her she was still alive.
And tonight, that mattered.
Luciano stood beside her, dark coat billowing, his gaze fixed on the alley below.
The safehouse Voss was rumored to use sat in shadows, disguised as a forgotten bookstore.
Its windows were dark.
Its door hadn’t been opened in years.
But it pulsed with something ancient.
Something watching.
Ari’s voice crackled softly through the comms. “Perimeter clear. One way in, two ways out. No movement for over twelve hours.”
Sienna’s grip tightened around the journal in her bag. “He’s in there. I feel it.”
Luciano didn’t argue. He’d stopped doubting her instincts. Especially now.
He ha
