The morning after the safehouse arrival was calm.
Too calm.
Tricia stared out the glass doors that opened to a balcony wrapped in pine trees and mist, her hand wrapped around a mug of untouched tea. The silence was unnatural, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Christopher moved behind her—silent, watchful, restless. He’d been on calls most of the night, though he never let her out of his sight. She knew he wasn’t sleeping. Neither was she.
Because they both knew this wasn’t safety.
It was a pause.
A breath before something worse.
She turned to him finally. “Tell me everything you know about the Castellis.”
He didn’t look surprised. Just resigned.
“They used to be allies,” he said. “When my father was alive. But they wanted more—more than they were promised. More than th
