Donatello’s patience wasn’t just thinning, it was shredded to the bone.

The shipment was delayed. His alliances were fraying. His reach, once unquestioned, now met resistance at every turn. And worst of all, again, Morelli and that damn woman, Talana, had slipped through his fingers like smoke.

He stalked across the warehouse floor, boots striking concrete hard enough to echo through the cavernous space. Sodium lights buzzed overhead, casting long shadows across stacked crates and armed ...