Dante is already awake when his phone vibrates against the table. He hasn’t really slept in days—just drifted in and out of something restless and unfinished.
The moment the screen lights up, he’s sitting up. Answering before the second ring.
“Talk.”
“We have something.”
Dante’s entire body stills. Something.
“Where?”
“A property outside the northern ridge. Private land. Recently acquired under a shell name.”
Dante is already moving, pushing off the bed, grabbing the nearest jacket.
“How recent?”
“Three weeks.”
His chest tightens. Three weeks. That lines up. Too perfectly.
“Security?”
“Light on paper,” the voice says. “Heavy in reality. Rotating guards. Communications shielded. Minimal digital footprint.”
Sebastian. It has his signature all over it. Dante runs a hand through h
