**Elena’s POV**

Lucia’s finger hovered over the small black recorder. She looked at me with a twisted, hungry smile, the kind a predator wears before the final kill.

Then, she pressed the button.

A soft hiss of static filled the air, followed by a voice that made my blood turn to ice. It was Stefano. His voice was deep, calm, and terrifyingly cold.

“That’s exactly what you’ll do, until I’m done with Armando,” Stefano said on the recording.

The room tilted. My father, he was ...