The van’s tires screeched as Alessio gunned it through the wet streets, Noa clutching the door handle so hard his knuckles burned. The GPS screamed at them, the base blinking red on the screen, the timer ticking down like they were racing against the pulse of a bomb.

“She knows my name,” Noa muttered, his breath sharp, his ribs still aching from everything that had gone down. “Why does she know my name?”

Alessio’s jaw clenched, his eyes locked on the road like he could kill Nero ...