54
Alaric’s POV
I was in my study, going over the details of our latest shipments, when the knock came—two sharp raps, a pause, then a third. Allesio’s signal. I set down the file I’d been reading, already feeling the prickling sensation of unease.
“Come in,” I called, pushing away from the desk.
Allesio entered, his face set in a grim line, holding a small, nondescript brown package. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d pay attention to in a pile of mail—ordinary, almost insignificant. But the stiffness in his shoulders told me everything I needed to know.
“Found this at the front gate, sir,” he said, placing the package on my desk. “No return address.”
I met his eyes. “Did you check it?”
He gave a curt nod. “No explosives. It’s just paper inside, but it feels wrong.”
Wrong. That si
