The night was too quiet.
Too still.
Too wrong.
Isabella felt it before anyone said a word, a tightening in her chest, a coldness settling beneath her ribs. The mansion, now the HQ of The Iron Crown, hummed with restless bodies and shifting loyalties… but tonight it felt as though the walls were holding their breath.
Sophia stood by the windows, fingers twitching near her concealed blade. "Luca's taking too long," she muttered, pacing. "He was just supposed to check the perimeter."
"He knows what he's doing," Isabella whispered, though her voice lacked conviction. "He always comes back."
Before Sophia could respond, the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then died.
Darkness swallowed the hall.
Sophia cursed. "Backup generators should've kicked in. This isn't a glitch."
A cold voice slithered through the silence metallic, amplified, echoing through the speakers someone had hacked into.
"Isabella Moretti."
Every hair on her body rose.
