Marcus leaned against the wall of the roof, binoculars resting in his lap, eyes on the streets below. The city moved like shifting pressure waves: steady currents of people, then empty spaces, then movement again.

  What stood out were the disruptions. The ones that didn’t match the flow. The ones that rippled in the wrong direction.

  He’d spent the last hour watching them. Unfamiliar men and women drifting through the streets, patient and deliberate. Wrong. Not da Silva. Not Novem. But definitely searching.

  Marcus wasn’t the only one hunting.

  A soft footstep behind him. He didn’t react. He already knew it was Isi. She shimmered into existence beside him, plopping down with a casualness that didn’t quite match the tension pressing against his ribs.

  “So,” Isi said, gesturing to the ice cream shop across the street. “How long have they been in there?”

  “A couple of hours,” Marcus muttered.

  “How long have you been up here?”

  He shrugged. “Same amount of time.”

  Isi gave him a pointed look. “And when exactly did you last sleep?”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

  She looked like she wanted to scold him but let out a slow breath instead. They both knew the toll of this.

  “But you think they’ll leave soon?” she asked.

  “My guess? They’re waiting for dark.” His fingers tightened on the binoculars. “But I could be wrong. Maybe they’re waiting for backup. I guess we’ll see.”

  “And if it’s backup?” Isi’s tone was calm, but he could hear the calculation in it.

  Marcus shrugged. “Then we tip Sasha off. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to join the party. I left her back at the university. She’s probably still fuming, waiting for my call.”

  Isi hesitated. “Siera wants the girl too.”

  Marcus stilled. A kidnapping. The weight of it settled like iron in his chest.

  This was already bigger than he'd anticipated. The girl had only spent hours with the pages. Siera could’ve gotten that intel later. Which meant this wasn’t about information. This was about control. Siera wanted to cut Novem off.

  This was competition. The da Silvas weren’t just interfering; they were forcing their way in, more reckless than he’d ever seen. Usually, the da Silvas played the long game, shifted in the shadows. They were careful and calculated, but this? This wasn’t subtle. This was a declaration of war with Novem.

  And Novem wouldn’t step out of the shadows either. Not for this.

  The da Silvas would declare war. The Ribeiros would retaliate. Everything would go to hell, all while the public turned a blind eye. Because it would all happen in the dark, with the clans sweeping away the mess afterward.

  The lives. The secrets.

  Marcus let out a slow, shuddering breath. “Do you ever wonder if this is worth it?” he whispered.

  Isi tilted her head, considering. “I ask myself that question all the time.” A pause. “But right now? It is. With Trevor’s drive and those pages in play, maybe we can finally figure this out. If we can protect people like your father… like my parents… then yeah. It’s worth it.”

  Marcus nodded. He’d trust her. He didn’t trust himself, not with decisions like this. He’d made too many wrong ones. Enough that Isi had left him over it. Two years later, he’d come crawling back, scarred and begging. She’d given him hell for it, but she’d forgiven him.

  Isi had always been more clear-sighted about what sacrifices could be made, which ones wouldn’t push him off the tightrope he was barely balancing on, so he’d trust her now.

  “We’ll get the girl,” Marcus said. “Tonight.”

  Isi took his hand and squeezed it. Then, carefully, “Wouldn’t it be better to move in now?”

  Marcus exhaled. His op. His call. That was how Isi worked.

  “They’re exposed,” she murmured. “If we move now, we take them before they disappear into the city.”

  He didn’t look at her. He didn’t need to. He could already hear the calculation in her tone, the way she was piecing together the most efficient way to finish this. Isi was careful. She was patient.

  Marcus shook his head. “No. Not here.”

  She studied him. “Why?”

  Marcus didn’t answer immediately. His eyes tracked another set of men pausing at a street corner, speaking in hushed tones before continuing on. They weren’t subtle enough to be Novem. They weren’t sloppy enough to be random thugs.

  “I don’t know who they belong to,” Marcus admitted. Not even after watching them for an hour.

  Isi arched an eyebrow. “That’s new.”

  Marcus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “They’re looking for someone. I’ve seen at least two separate groups patrolling different sections of the city. That’s not random. It’s a coordinated search.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Isi chuckled. “Lucky for you, I do know who they belong to. Not that you’re going to like it.”

  Marcus stiffened.

  “The Ribeiros. Tiago’s people, so a little more subtle than the usual strain.”

  Marcus swore under his breath.

  Isi nodded. “Seems they didn’t take too kindly to your little stunt a few days ago.” Her voice was light, but there was an edge beneath it. “I suspect they followed you. Then when they caught wind of this afternoon’s events—the fire, the bribes—well, they knew something valuable was here.” She brushed a leaf off her pants. “Large sums of cash don’t move quietly. Not in this city.”

  Marcus let out a slow breath. Cascades. The Ribeiros weren’t like Novem or the da Silvas. Novem cleaned up quietly. The da Silvas pressed where it hurt.

  The Ribeiros? They broke things. And people. Until they got what they wanted.

  And he had led them right to Teorin. To his brother. Who had no idea just how many people wanted him now.

  Isi huffed a laugh. “Don’t worry so much. It was almost inevitable that someone else would show up. Whatever Novem has… the gossip is wild.” She shot him a look. “Regardless, doesn’t this mean we should act now? Before the Ribeiros do? I don’t fancy a clan war.”

  Marcus clenched his jaw. She wasn’t wrong, but she also didn’t understand. If they moved now, it would be messy. There were too many people. It could turn into a three-way battle in the middle of the streets.

  At least, that’s what he kept trying to tell himself. It wasn’t that he couldn’t face Teorin, right?

  He swallowed hard. Last time had been bad enough. Marcus could still see the way Teorin’s body had locked up when he closed his eyes. Worse was Teorin’s expression just before he collapsed: angry, scared, almost begging. If he took Teorin now, he would have to do it again. And… he wasn’t sure he could anymore. Not again.

  Isi shifted beside him, watching carefully. She was observant enough that she would feel the hesitation bleeding into his voice.

  “Marcus,” she said softly.

  He exhaled sharply. “If we take them now, it’s too exposed,” he said. “If we slip up for even a second, Tiago’s people will be on us. They’re tracking the same scent, and we’d be handing them the perfect opening. Kathrine said Jeron was spotted at the tower, if we take them there…”

  Isi’s eyes flickered with understanding, but she didn’t let it drop. “How does the tower change that? If Jeron is there, the tower seems much worse, in my humble opinion.”

  Marcus turned to face her fully. “It’s controlled. Isolated. We can set up, stage an ambush before they even make it to Jeron. Plus, less likely that Sasha burns down half the city. I can put her in a controlled setting.”

  Isi crossed her arms. “This isn’t just about Sasha, is it?”

  Her gaze bore into him, waiting for an answer he didn’t want to give. She always pushed him when it mattered, when he wasn’t thinking clearly or when he let his ghosts talk too loud. And he let her, because if anyone could keep him from getting lost again, it was her.

  She’d already proven that. More than once. And she was still here. Fighting for him. Even when it cost her.

  Marcus exhaled, tilting his head back. “It isn’t just about Sasha,” he admitted.

  Isi tapped her fingers against her leg. “I figured.”

  Marcus hesitated, then forced himself to say it. “He’s going to despise me after this,” he whispered. “First, I take the drive from him. Now, I show up and steal Novem’s document? I just don’t know if I can…”

  Teorin’s voice breaking on his name, then the whimper as he went unconscious.

  He swallowed. “I can’t.”

  Isi just nodded.

  “And Sasha is a problem,” he added. “She’s watching me too closely. If I make a move now, she might claim it’s impulsive. She won’t let me near Teorin after I ‘failed’ to get the drive from him. She’d take over, and I’d have no way to keep her in check.”

  “It won’t be simple either way,” Isi said. “With Tiago’s people crawling all over the city, we’re going to have to actively keep them off Teorin’s back.”

  Marcus nodded. He knew that.

  Isi just shook her head, but she was grinning now. “This is going to be a wild night.”

  Marcus huffed a quiet laugh, running a hand through his hair. Wild was one way to put it. The humor faded as his thoughts shifted. It wouldn’t be long now, but something had been bothering him for days.

  “So,” Marcus asked, voice low. “Did you find what you were looking for on Trevor’s drive?”

  Isi hesitated. Then she blew out a very long breath. “I guess I owe you an explanation for that one, huh?”

  “Yes.” He’d hate himself for the rest of his life for what he’d done to get it.

  “The drive… it’s Trevor’s notes. On all the disappearances. On Enigma.” Isi’s voice was careful, measured.

  Marcus let out a slow breath. That’s why she’d called it dangerous. He studied her. There was more. “But what particular secrets were you after, Isi?”

  She bit her lip. “I was hoping it could give me a clue about what happened to Trevor, but… it’s encrypted.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “And you didn’t expect that?”

  Isi let out a sharp exhale. “No, I did. It’s not like I got nothing. Some of the files I can read: first-person accounts from the Atalanta era—enough to confirm sabotage, not enough to prove it publicly. ”

  Marcus’ breath caught. Confirmation? It made his stomach twist, still… “It’s good to have confirmation, but we’ve been working under that assumption for years. There’s really nothing else?”

  “There are some important details and interesting theories. Details on how Novem started the Enigma Protocol. The sort of stuff that would shock the average citizen.”

  He’d put himself in Siera’s crosshairs, risked everything, for theories and details? His grip on the binoculars tightened until the edges bit into his palms.

  “So, you have nothing,” Marcus said flatly.

  “It’s not nothing. Just not enough. Yet. Like I said, most of it is encrypted. I thought I could get in because Trevor gave me the encryption key.” She closed her eyes. “But he gave the other half to Novem.”

  Marcus stiffened. His blood ran cold. “You can’t get into it without them.”

  Isi nodded. “If I want any clues about Trevor, I have to gain access to Novem’s databases.” She took a deep breath, then looked at Marcus. “I know you don’t want to get your family involved, but all things considered, Teorin seems pretty reasonable. Maybe we could ask him to—”

  “No.” Marcus cut her off sharply.

  Isi frowned. “Marcus—”

  He turned back to the ice cream parlor. “No.”

  Isi tried again. “This is important, Marcus. Especially with everything in play right now—”

  He turned back to her, eyes hard. “I know you want to find your uncle, but we are not bringing Teorin into this.”

  Isi’s frown deepened. “You’re not protecting him,” Isi said quietly. “You’re protecting yourself from him.”

  His throat tightened. Maybe.

  “I don’t trust him not to run straight to Jeron,” Marcus said. “They’re too close. And besides, there’s no way he would ever trust me.” He kicked at the leaves on the roof, jaw tightening. “And it would put him in even more danger.”

  Isi was silent. Marcus knew she was weighing that.

  “I know you want to protect your family,” she said finally, her voice gentler now. “But you realize that telling Teorin nothing might land him in just as much trouble, no?”

  Marcus didn’t want to think about that. Teorin was already in too deep. And the worst part? He didn’t even realize it. Marcus had never wanted this for him, but what if it wasn’t his choice to make anymore? Marcus clenched his jaw. If Teorin got involved, he wouldn’t just be in danger, he’d be a target.

  And Marcus would never forgive himself for that. Worse, if Teorin got hurt, the one person who never asked would demand answers. And Marcus wouldn’t be able to give them, and then there’d be nowhere left to go when the walls closed in.

  “Not yet, Isi.” His voice was firm, final. “Find another way to unlock that drive.”

  Isi sighed but nodded. Then, after a beat, she took one of his hands in both of hers, fingers tracing in quiet comfort. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  He knew she wasn’t apologizing for pushing him. She was apologizing for all of this.

  Marcus took a deep breath. “It’s alright,” he murmured, turning back to the ice cream parlor. “That’s just the price of all this.”