SERAFINA’S POV
The drive to Florence was cloaked in silence and static tension.
Alessia had triangulated the coordinates from the message, but even she looked uneasy about it. She sat in the back of the SUV, running endless background checks on Luca Ambrosi—on his aliases, deployments, psychological evaluations. Nothing added up cleanly, and that alone made me suspicious.
Alonzo kept his grip on the wheel tight, eyes scanning the road like he expected ghosts to manifest out of the fog. Maybe he wasn’t wrong.
Me? I stared at the message again, burned into the screen like a second scar.
You’re not alone.
A lie.
Or a warning wrapped in sentiment.
“He could be bait,” Alonzo said without taking his eyes off the road.
“Then let’s bring a bigger trap,” I replied coolly, flicking the safe
