The sharp Zurich sunlight pierced my eyelids, a painful unfamiliarity after the familiar darkness of the North Sea. I inhaled, the scent of clean linen mingling faintly with the thin antiseptic smell that always clung to high-end security facilities. Beside me, Lianna still slept, her face peaceful without a trace of the tension that had haunted me for the past few weeks.
I rose slowly, ensuring my movements were minimal. Three days. Three days since the North Madam was trapped in the web I wove, three days since the North Faction collapsed like a house of cards blown by an unexpected storm. The victory felt hollow, layered with a cold film of apprehension.
I walked to the window. The city view felt too peaceful. Out there, the media must already be picking apart the remnants of the Nort
