The convoy of sleek, black cars pulled up in front of the *Hotel di Lombardia*, a luxury retreat tucked just outside Monza’s historic heart. Its marble façade gleamed under the streetlights, towering like a palace against the night sky.

The guards were out first, scanning the surroundings with hawk-like eyes before opening the back door of Montez’s car.

Amira stepped out, her heels clicking against the stone pavement, her shoulders stiff. The air smelled faintly ...