Another muzzle flash lit up the darkness near the staircase.

I leaned out and fired three times.

The shooter collapsed over the wooden railing, his weapon clattering down the steps.

Silence returned to the house, heavy and thick.

We waited, listening to the wind rattle the loose boards outside.

“Clear?” Luca whispered.

“Move up,” I said.

We walked down the hallway, our guns pointed forward.

The two men on the floor wore tactical gear, but they had no badges or insignia.

They were street mercenaries.

“This isn’t Kane’s personal security,” Luca said, nudging a body with his boot.

“These are hired guns.”

“A decoy team,” I said.

“They were paid to die here just to keep us busy.”

I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach.

If this was a decoy, where was Rachel?

We searched the ground floor quickly, finding nothing but empty rooms and cheap, dusty furniture.

We headed up the creaking stairs, checking every dark corner.

At the end of the upper hallway, a door stood half-open.

A soft, electronic hum came from inside.

I pushed the door open with my foot.