Verona wasn’t quiet at midnight.

It breathed.

It throbbed with secrets, luxury, and bloodlines older than law.

Calderi had chosen this place for a reason. Not just for its beauty, or history, or romantic ghosts.

But because Verona remembers.

It remembers loyalty.

And it punishes betrayal.

The invitation had led me to a villa on the edge of the city, tucked behind high stone walls and guarded like a Vatican secret.

The moment I stepped out of the car, someone blindfolded me.

No ...