The sound of her voice had nearly broken me.
“Adrian? It’s me.”
Those words had been cracked, hoarse, but alive. Nova was alive. And when the line had cut out, I hadn’t wasted a single second.
For three days, I’d been moving like a man possessed—digging, bribing, threatening, searching. Every lead had been smoke. Every trail, ash. Zaria had hovered too close, feigning sympathy, whispering poisonous reassurances I hadn’t asked for. I had wanted to believe her—wanted something to cling to when everything else was chaos—but every time she opened her mouth, I felt a crawl in my skin.
And now? Now I knew why.
Nova had escaped.
I clenched my fists as I stood in my study, maps, photos, and files spread across the mahogany desk. Every contact I’d ever leaned on, every back alley informant, e
