Lucia did not sleep.
Even after the penthouse was swept again. Even after new security layers were installed. Even after Elena confirmed that no additional transmissions were active.
She lay beside her son's crib for hours, sitting on the floor with her back against the wall, watching the quiet rhythm of his breathing.
Dominic did not tell her to rest.
He knew better.
The night felt different now. Not fragile. Not tense.
Resolved.
By dawn, the city had begun to stir beneath them, unaware that something far bigger than corporate rivalry was unfolding in its shadow.
Lucia stood and rolled her shoulders once, steadying herself.
"Tell me everything about that estate," she said.
Dominic had not slept either. He was standing by the window, staring at nothing in particular.
"It was my father's retreat," he said. "Private. Off records. It predates the council structure as it exists now."
"Why seal it?"
He hesitated.
