Elijah’s pov
The day had barely begun, and yet the storm brewing inside me felt like it had been simmering for days. I couldn’t shake the image of Harrington’s face, or the photo of the woman—her identity still a mystery but undeniably tied to something far bigger than any of us could fathom. There was no going back now. Whatever we’d been tangled in before was just the beginning of something far more dangerous.
The others were scattered around the room. Costa was pacing, his long strides eating up the floor, while Michael sat at the table, idly flipping through the folder I’d handed Tiara earlier. Tiara herself was silent, her fingers wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee as if she could pull the answers from the liquid.
I leaned against the wall, watching them all, weighing the ris
