The call came while Leon was in a meeting with a weapons supplier. Nico passed him the phone without a word, urgency in his eyes.
Leon answered. "Speak."
"It's him," Nico said. "He showed up at the café near Ayla's old school. Sat there two hours. Didn't buy a thing. Just watched."
Leon's voice dropped to ice. "Did she see him?"
"No. She's home. But he knows where she used to go. That's not random."
Leon ended the call and stood, eyes on the window. His reflection looked calm. Cold. But inside, something dark stirred.
Daniel Monroe had officially crossed a line.
Later that evening, Ayla paced the edge of the training mat, sweat on her brow, fists still taped. She hadn't told Leon yet, but she'd seen someone earlier—a silhouette near the bookstore. Familiar.
Too familiar.
When he walked into the training room, she didn't hesitate.
"I think I saw him."
Leon stopped mid-step. "Where?"
"Near the bookstore. He didn't come close. Just… stood there. Watching."
Leon's face hardened. "He's trying to lure you. Make you doubt yourself. That's the game."
She sat, breathing heavy. "It's working."
Leon crouched in front of her, voice low. "Then we end the game."
Meanwhile, Daniel walked a quiet alley, stopping beside a streetlight. He pulled a small envelope from his coat—Ayla's name written on the front.
He handed it to a boy with a delivery bag.
"Give this to her. Don't open it. And don't say who it's from."
As the boy biked off, Daniel smiled and turned back toward the shadows.
He knew what he was doing.
And he wasn't afraid of Leon Romano.
Not yet.