The night exploded into chaos. The safe house was no longer safe—it was a battlefield wrapped in smoke and fire. Zarek moved like a phantom through the blaze, gun raised, every step a promise written in blood. Lucien followed—because he couldn’t let Zarek fight this war alone, even if it killed him. Screams. Gunshots. Shadows darting through flames. Zarek’s men fell one by one as Ciro’s assassins flooded the house like a black tide. “Stay down!” Zarek barked, shoving Lucien behind a marble column as bullets shattered glass above their heads. But Lucien wasn’t hiding this time. He gripped the pistol Zarek gave him like it was the last thread of control he had left. Then—Ciro stepped through the smoke. Elegant. Smiling. Dressed in black silk like the devil walking out of a cathedral f

