The Devil In White
“You think Isabella’s tied to this?”
I don’t answer. The silence says enough.
I grab one of the drives, pocket it, and give the room one last look before we leave.
“Burn everything,” I order.
The moment we step outside, Luca sets the timer on the charge. The explosion rolls through the building seconds later, lighting the night in a burst of orange and smoke.
The old Moretti hub collapses on itself—burying the evidence, the wires, the ghosts.
I don’t look back.
Back at the villa, the world feels smaller. The walls closer.