“Don’t shoot,” Marcus stammered, his political confidence evaporating in an instant. “I am a federal asset. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

One of the tactical officers ignored him entirely, stepping over Thomas to secure the hallway.

Another officer stepped beside me, offering a gloved hand to help me off the floor.

“Are you hurt, Miss Bennett?” a calm, deep voice asked.

I looked up and saw Damiano stepping through the shattered doorway.

He wore a dark, tailored coat over a black turtleneck, looking entirely untouched by the chaos around him.

His dark eyes swept over me, assessing my torn sleeve and the dirt on my hands.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I took his hand and stood up.

Damiano nodded once, then turned his gaze toward Marcus, who was trembling against the wall.

“Damiano,” Marcus hissed, trying to find his voice. “You think you can get away with this? My people will dismantle your entire operation by morning.”

Damiano stepped closer, his boots crunching on the broken glass.

“Your people are currently erasing their servers to distance themselves from you, Marcus,” Damiano said quietly.