Behind the drywall, a cluster of black wires ran like veins into a small, blinking metal box.

“Surveillance,” Luca muttered, stepping into the room while keeping Eli behind him.

Dante traced the wires to a hidden panel inside the closet.

He pulled the wood panel free.

Inside sat a sleek, high-end monitor, completely out of place in this ruin.

A live feed showed three different angles of the apartment, and another showed the snowy street below.

At the bottom of the screen, a digital watermark glowed in gold.

*The Kane Foundation.*

Dr. Everett Kane, the city’s celebrated billionaire philanthropist.

“He’s been watching them,” Dante said, his voice flat and dangerous.

He tapped the keyboard beneath the screen.

The monitor flashed, transitioning to a secure system directory.

I leaned closer to the grate, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought they would hear it.

Dante clicked a folder labeled *Archived Relocations*.

A list of names scrolled down the screen.

Then, Dante stopped.

His thumb hovered over the mouse.

On the screen, a scanned identification card appeared.

It was my face.

Underneath the photo, the text read: *Moretti, Isabella. Status: Active. Location: Secured.*

Dante stared at the screen, his fingers tightening on the edge of the monitor until his knuckles turned white.

“She’s alive,” he whispered.

Luca stepped closer, his jaw dropping. “Boss, that’s…”

“She’s alive, Luca,” Dante repeated, his voice shaking with a sudden, quiet heat.

Beside them, Rachel Mercer groaned on the mattress, her hand twitching.

A thin, dark liquid trickled from the corner of her mouth.

Dante tore his eyes from my photo and knelt beside Rachel, checking her pulse.

“She’s been poisoned,” Dante said. “Some kind of toxin. Luca, call the private clinic. We get her out of here now.”

He turned back to the monitor, his fingers flying across the keys.