AlessandreTwo hours.That was the window.Not enough time to clean it.Not enough time to bury it.Just enough time to choose how it explodes.Alessandre moved fast.“Get in the car,” he said, already pulling Ophelia toward his.“What about—”“They’re done,” he cut in, nodding once toward the man still pinned against the vehicle. “He was a message, not the threat.”That alone told her everything.This wasn’t over.It hadn’t even started.---The engine roared to life as they sped off.Ophelia sat rigid beside him, her phone still in her hand like it might burn through her skin.“Two hours,” she said under her breath. “Two hours and my life is over.”“No,” Alessandre said flatly. “Two hours before they think it is.”Her head snapped toward him.“That’s not reassuring.”“It’s not meant to be.”His eyes stayed on the road.Sharp. Focused. Calculating.Because this—This was familiar territory.Pressure.Control.Timing.War.---“They want you reactive,” he continued. “They want you des
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