Luca stepped under the portico, shaking water off his black umbrella with a sharp, impatient flick of his wrist.

His men moved with practiced efficiency, spreading out to cover the side entrances of the mansion.

I turned and ran back down the narrow service corridor, my soft-soled shoes making no sound on the hardwood.

The blood rushing in my ears was deafening.

I burst back into Alexander’s bedroom, my breath catching in my throat.

Marcus stood near the window, his hand resting on the frame, his face pale under the dim light of the single desk lamp.

“Luca is here,” I whispered, trying to steady my breathing. “He has at least six men with automatic rifles.”

Dr. Voss did not look up from Alexander’s side, her fingers pressed firmly against the boss’s neck to check his pulse.

“His heart rate is climbing,” the doctor said, her voice flat and steady. “The toxin is spreading faster.”

Sofia stepped out from behind the heavy velvet drapes, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and anger.

“Luca,” she spat, her fists clenching at her sides until her knuckles turned white. “He did this. I know he did.”