The explosion still echoed in Alessio’s ears, the fireball lighting up the night sky like the end of a war. His pulse hammered so hard he thought his ribs would crack, but his grip on Noa never loosened.

The woman was gone. Burnt to ash.

But that voice.

That voice didn’t die with her.

“We haven’t even started, brother.”

Alessio’s breath came sharp, broken, and cold sweat slipped down his spine. His jaw clenched as he slammed his fist into the van’s wall, his rage trying to crack ...