CHAPTER 17 — THE ENEMY MAKES CONTACT
The message arrived just before dawn.
Not through phones.
Not through intermediaries.
Through bloodless audacity.
Amara noticed the shift in the house before anyone spoke. The estate had its own rhythm—guards rotating, doors opening softly, voices low and controlled. That morning, the rhythm fractured.
Footsteps moved faster.
Radios whispered instead of crackled.
Tension clung to the air like static.
She stood at the balcony outside her room, watching the courtyard below. Alessandro was already there, speaking to two men in dark suits. His posture was rigid, his attention sharpened to a blade’s edge.
Something had happened.
When he looked up and met her gaze, she knew.
He dismissed the men with a single gesture and walked toward the entrance
