Isla Calloway had always known this moment would come.
She had spent her whole life preparing for it—whether she realized it or not.
And now?
Now, she was standing face-to-face with her father’s men, her gun steady, her pulse a steady drumbeat of fury.
Danica was alive.
But not for long if Isla didn’t end this quickly.
The warehouse smelled of oil, sweat, and gunpowder—a perfect setting for the war that was about to explode.
Lucas Reyes was beside her, his own gun raised, his green eyes sharp and dangerous.
"Two on the left," he murmured.
"I see them," Isla whispered back.
Her father’s men had already drawn their weapons, but they weren’t firing yet.
Because they were waiting.
Waiting for orders.
Waiting for their boss.
And Isla knew exactly what that meant.
Her father was h
