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I shake my head. My Italian is so-so. You pick things up working organized crime, but they’re too far away and speaking too fast. Still, their body language tells a story. Tense shoulders. Quick, sharp gestures. The way they keep glancing over their shoulders.

“They’re scared,” I say. “Whatever’s happening, it’s got them spooked.”

“Eve.” Rissa’s voice has that careful tone again. “How many guns do you see?”

I do a quick count and feel my stomach drop. Assault rifles. Submachine guns. Enough firepower to take out half the city.

“They’re preparing for war,” I whisper. The words taste like ash in my mouth.

“What do we do?” Rissa asks, but I can tell from her expression she already knows the answer.

“We can’t just leave.” Even as I say it, I know how it sounds. How many protocols we’re breaking just being here. “Leo’s in there somewhere. I can feel it.”

“And if we go in there, we’ll die.” Rissa’s hand finds mine in the shadows, squeezing hard. “Think about it. Even if we somehow got past all those guards, what then? We have no idea where they’re keeping him. No backup. No way to call for help without this turning into an absolute clusterfuck.”

She’s right. Again. But…

“Okay, so we call it in?” The words taste like defeat. “Get SWAT involved, do this by the book?”

Rissa’s quiet for a long moment. “You know what happens if we do that. They’ll want to know how we found this place. Why we were here without authorization. And then there’s Zeke.”

The unspoken implications hang heavy between us. My marriage. Zeke’s connections to the criminal underworld. All the lies and half-truths I’ve told to protect him—to protect us both.

“So what then?” I hate how small my voice sounds. “We just … wait?”

A burst of activity from the warehouse draws our attention. More men emerging, carrying what look like heavy equipment cases. Loading them into the SUVs with practiced efficiency.

“Something’s definitely going down,” Rissa mutters. “But what?”

I wish I knew. Wish I could piece together all the fragments into a picture that makes sense—Zeke’s disappearance, Alessandro’s plans, whatever spooked his men so badly. One that leads me to Leo.

Instead, all I can do is watch from the shadows as more vehicles arrive. As Alessandro’s army prepares for whatever war is coming.

And pray that when the shooting starts, Leo isn’t caught in the crossfire.

The wind whipsmy hair across my face as I crouch behind a stack of empty pallets, watching the sudden flurry of activity at the warehouse entrance. My heart pounds against my ribs, a steady drumbeat of fear and anticipation. Next to me, Rissa’s breathing is shallow but controlled as we observe more than half of Alessandro’s men pile into black SUVs and speed away.

“What are they doing,” I whisper, unable to shake the feeling that this sudden exodus is too convenient. In my years as a detective, I’ve learned that when things seem too easy, they usually are. “Why would they leave now?”

Rissa’s eyes narrow as she does a quick count of the remaining guards. “Down to skeleton crew. Four, maybe five guys left.” She glances at me, the unspoken question in her expression:Do we move now?

I bite my lower lip, weighing our options. The rational part of my brain—the part that’s gotten me through countless dangerous situations—screams this is a trap. But then I think of Leo, my sweet nephew alone and scared somewhere in that warehouse, and rationality takes a backseat to the primal need to protect him.

“We can’t wait for backup,” I decide, checking my service weapon for the hundredth time. The familiar feel of it grounds me, reminds me of who I am and what I’m capable of. “If they’re moving him …”

I don’t finish the thought. Don’t need to. Rissa’s already nodding, her own hand moving to her holster.

“Your play, partner,” she says softly. “How do you want to handle this?”

The warehouse looms before us, a hulking shadow against the star-studded sky. Two guards visible at the main entrance, another patrolling the perimeter. The loading dock on the east side appears unguarded—our best shot at getting in undetected.

“Loading dock,” I whisper, already plotting our route through the shadows. “We split up—you take the guy on patrol, I’ll—”

A distant engine roar cuts through the air, growing louder by the second. My blood runs cold as multiple vehicles appear on the access road, moving fast.

“Shit,” Rissa hisses. “Company.”

Three black SUVs tear into the warehouse lot, followed by what looks like a small army of sedans. Even from this distance, I recognize the lead driver’s broad shoulders and commanding presence.Zeke.