“Four sites. Four hours. No survivors.”Lucia’s voice trembled, though she tried to hide it. The words echoed through the underground command room like distant thunder. Screens flickered overhead, each one showing a different city, each one bathed in red light and ruin.Bianca stood at the center of the storm, one hand braced on the steel table. Her hair was still damp from the rain, her other hand wrapped in a bandage from where she’d crushed the burned photograph. “Show me,” she said quietly.Lucia hesitated, then pressed a key.Footage appeared grainy, glitching, silent.New York: a Romano shipping terminal collapsing in flames.Madrid: the luxury hotel her foundation had just opened, gutted by an explosion.Singapore: one of Matteo’s offshore warehouses, emptied before the blast.Paris: her art gallery, her mother’s legacy reduced to smoke and ash.No alarms. No witnesses. No trace.Matteo stepped forward, his face unreadable, his voice a low growl. “They’re coordinated. Timed to
Last Updated : 2025-10-20 Read more