The safehouse in Rome was tucked into a quiet neighborhood......high walls, a steel gate, silence that felt foreign after the firestorm we’d just escaped.
I sat on the edge of the bed, hands still trembling from the adrenaline. My gown was torn at the hem, a reminder of how close I’d come to chaos. Donata had looked me in the eye like she hadn’t just tried to orchestrate my death in silence.
She knew now.
No more subtlety. No more whispers. It was war.
Adrian entered the room, shrugging off his jacket. His knuckles were bloodied.....bruises blooming beneath the skin.
“Where did you go?” I asked.
“To send a message.”
I stood. “To who?”
“Donata’s consigliere. The old one.” His voice was calm. Too calm. “He got a little... reminder of who’s hunting her now.”
My stomach twisted. “You
