Lucas

I lit another cigarette I didn’t even want. The smoke curled lazily against the dim light of the study, the same study I’d turned into a war room these past days. Maps stretched across the table, photos pinned against the board, names scribbled, circled, crossed out. Matteo’s name glared back at me in thick black marker, a reminder that every move he made wasn’t just to get to me—it was to take her away from me.

Nia.

Her name haunted me, threaded into every breath I took. ...