The night had a strange kind of stillness, the kind that precedes storms. Even in the city that never slept, the streets seemed quieter, more fragile, as if the air itself held its breath. Alexander stood at the penthouse window, hands pressed against the glass, staring out at a world that looked peaceful but was anything but.

The counterstrike had been a success, yes, but Damien was still out there. Always watching, always planning. Every move Alexander made, every alliance he forged, could be ...