The market district hummed with evening life vendors hawking spices and street food, lanterns swaying in the humid breeze off the lagoon. Dante had insisted Elena join him on the “lead,” a supposed sighting of a silver-haired woman tied to old Phoenix clues. After the cruel game of parading women and the charged nights pinned in restrained desire, the outing felt like a fragile olive branch. Or another test.
They moved with a small contingent of guards, Dante’s hand possessive on the small of her back as they approached the stall from the copied Phoenix files. Elena’s hidden USB and vault coordinates weighed on her mind, Ghost's window closing fast. But the night shattered before plans could advance.
Gunfire erupted from the shadows of an alley. Brutal. Coordinated. Bullets whined past,
