It was a warm afternoon, deceptive in its calm. The sun filtered through the tall windows of the Moretti estate's conference room, casting golden streaks across the polished wood table. But there was no warmth in the room. Not among the people seated around that table. Not with the truth finally laid bare before us.
The Hash Family had betrayed us.
I sat quietly in a chair beside Helios, our fingers entwined beneath the table. He hadn’t said much since the meeting began, but I could feel the tension in him like a live wire. His jaw clenched every time another piece of evidence was presented, every time another thread led back to the same conclusion: the Hash Family had been playing both sides.
For weeks, the Morettis and the Volkovs had been circling the truth like predators in the dark. Assassination attempts, leaked information, attacks designed to make us blame one another. It had nearly worked.
Until tonight.
Isabella sat across from me, her expression unreadable but her eyes
