Luca’s POV
The gravel crunched under my boots as I left the meeting, Mario trailing behind me like a shadow. The weight of the discussion still lingered, each word heavy with implications. My mind was already working overtime, calculating next moves, when one of the bodyguards approached with a new phone.
“Your replacement,” he said gruffly, handing it over.
I took it without a word, the sight of it pulling me back to last night—the chaos, the explosions, Christine’s terrified face. I clenched my jaw and shoved the memory aside. There was no room for distraction. Swiping the screen, my chest tightened as a familiar number flashed across it.
Bianca’s father.
The vibration gnawed at my nerves. I considered ignoring it but eventually pressed the call button, my tone clipped. “Luca.”
“Ah
