The war room smelled like blood and gun oil.
Raven stood in the center of the chaos, ribs throbbing where the rifle butt had caught her, lip still bleeding from where she'd bitten it. The torn black silk dress hung off one shoulder, exposing too much skin. Sweat slicked her body. Her pulse hammered so hard she felt it in her teeth.
The attacker had been dragged away. The body of Marco was long gone. But the doubt Vincent's three words had planted stayed behind like a blade between her ribs.
"It happened."
No denial. No explanation.
Just that.
She couldn't stop hearing it.
Vincent stood at the head of the table, calm as ever, while the guardians moved around him with quiet efficiency. Lucian was already sealing the breached systems. Dante paced like a caged animal. Sebastian watched her with new intensity. Matteo calculated. Leonid stood guard at the door like death itself.
