The rhythmic thump of helicopter blades roared overhead, slicing through the thick smoke curling from the burning wreckage below. Rosalind barely had time to steady herself before a floodlight blasted down on them, casting long, eerie shadows across the deck.
Then, a voice. Low, rich, and laced with amusement.
“You’ve always been hard to catch, Venom Rose. But even you can’t outrun the sky.”
Rosalind’s blood turned to ice. She slowly turned, lifting her gaze toward the sleek, black helicopter hovering just above the ship.
Dante Salvatori.
Dressed in an immaculate suit, he leaned casually against the open side door of the chopper, his silver cufflinks glinting under the artificial light. A smirk played at his lips, but his dark eyes were anything but amused.
Tristan stepped in front o
