Dane's POV:
I didn't sleep.
I lay there all night, staring at the ceiling, counting nothing.
My body never shut down. It stayed wired, alert, like it was still waiting for something to go wrong.
Morning comes anyway.
Pale light through the blinds.
The room smells like her shampoo and something metallic.
I don't feel tired.
I feel ready.
Stocciani.
The name hits and my focus narrows instantly.
A flash of heat that makes my vision sharpen around the edges.
But it's done.
He's dead.
I killed him.
That should be the end of it.
A line crossed.
A chapter closed.
It doesn't feel like one.
It feels unfinished.
Like something slipped past me.
Like he left something behind that I didn't see in time.
My gut twists.
I need to go back through everything.
Every file. Every call. Every half-dead lead I decided wasn't worth chasing. Because if there's even a chance something connected to him is still breathing—
It's coming for her.
