Adrian didn’t sleep. He hunted. The city lay beneath him like a living thing—veins of light and shadow, streets pulsing with fear and opportunity. Valenti territory had never felt so small. Every sound scraped against his nerves. Every scent reminded him of what was missing.
Calla.
The bond was still there, a low ember under his ribs, steady but distant. It didn’t ache the way it had the first night. That hurt more.
It meant she was stable without him.
That truth clawed deeper than rage.
Adrian stepped out of the car before it fully stopped. Lorenzo was already talking, already listing names, locations, intel—trying to keep the Don anchored to logistics instead of instinct.
“They’re moving weapons through Dock Six,” Lorenzo said. “Human syndicate aligned with Rask’s remnants. We take
