He ended the call and looked at me.

“The safehouse in the suburbs is secure,” he said. “Lily and Mrs. Patel are safe.”

A wave of relief washed over me, so strong it made me feel lightheaded.

“Thank God,” I breathed.

“We’re going to a secondary location,” Dante said. “A place Moretti doesn’t know about.”

I nodded, too exhausted to argue.

The SUV turned onto the expressway, heading away from the glowing towers of downtown.

I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the city lights blur.

We were alive, but the war had just begun.

The mole was still out there, hiding in plain sight.

And Lorenzo Moretti had just shown how far he was willing to go.

The SUV slowed down as we entered a quiet, tree-lined residential neighborhood on the outskirts of the city.

We pulled into the driveway of an unassuming brick house.

Marcus turned off the engine.

“Stay in the car until I check the perimeter,” Marcus said.

Dante nodded.

We sat in the dark interior of the vehicle, the silence thick between us.