The man inside the building was named Arturo Reyes.

Former accountant.

Former money launderer.

Former loyal employee of the Moretti organization until Luca decided Arturo knew too much to remain useful.

Men disappeared constantly in Luca’s world.

The smart ones disappeared before Luca could reach them first.

Valentina climbed the narrow stairwell toward Arturo’s apartment with Adrian directly behind her. The old building smelled like cigarette smoke, damp wood, and overheated pipes. Somewhere downstairs, music played faintly through thin apartment walls while snow battered the fire escapes outside.

“You could’ve warned me we were visiting a paranoid ex-criminal,” Adrian said quietly.

Valentina kept walking. “If I warned you properly, you might’ve stopped me.”

“That was the idea.”

She glanced over her shoulder briefly. “See? You are learning.”

Adrian’s expression remained unreadable, though irritation lingered faintly beneath it.

By the time they reached the second floor, Arturo already stood waiting near the apartment entrance with a handgun visibly tucked into his waistband.

Nervous.

Sweating.

Watching Adrian more than Valentina.

“That him?” Arturo asked quietly in Spanish.

Valentina answered in the same language. “Yes.”

Arturo looked deeply unimpressed. “You brought a soldier into my apartment?”

“I brought someone useful.”

“I liked you better when your bad decisions involved money.”

Adrian’s gaze moved calmly between them. “I understand enough Spanish to know I’m being insulted.”

“That means your education was excellent,” Arturo muttered.

The apartment itself was small, overheated, and cluttered with stacks of documents spread across a dining table beneath harsh yellow light. Financial ledgers. Offshore account printouts. Shipping records.

Evidence.

Adrian closed the apartment door behind them and immediately checked the windows without being asked.

Always working.

Always expecting violence.

Valentina moved toward the table. “Tell me what Luca’s hiding.”

Arturo rubbed a hand across his face nervously. “The Moretti accounts are moving money too fast. Millions disappearing offshore every week through shell companies I’ve never seen before.”

“That doesn’t sound unusual.”

“It is when the Russians get involved.”

That caught Adrian’s attention instantly.

Valentina noticed the shift in his posture.

Subtle.

Sharp.

Dangerously focused.

Arturo continued lowering his voice. “There are new people inside the organization now. Not traditional mafia. Contractors. Mercenaries. Political people.”

“Political?” Valentina asked.

Arturo nodded. “The kind who make investigations disappear.”

A cold feeling settled quietly into the room.

Valentina looked down at the documents spread across the table while Arturo pointed toward several highlighted transactions.

Weapons routes.

Dock transfers.

International accounts tied to Eastern Europe.

Even without Luca’s direct signature, she recognized the structure of his operations immediately.

Except this time the scale looked bigger.

Messier.

Desperate.

As though Luca was preparing for war.

Adrian studied one of the ledgers silently for several seconds before speaking. “These transfers started six months ago.”

Arturo looked surprised. “You can read accounting structures?”

“I can read laundering patterns.”

The answer sounded too experienced to belong to an ordinary bodyguard.

Valentina noticed Arturo noticing it too.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

“Someone’s financing private operations through these accounts,” Adrian continued calmly. “Weapons, personnel movement, logistics.”

Arturo swallowed nervously. “That’s exactly why I wanted out.”

Valentina folded her arms slowly. “And Luca let you walk away alive?”

“No,” Arturo admitted quietly. “I just ran faster than his men.”

Silence settled heavily over the apartment.

Outside, snow struck the windows harder as wind swept through the narrow streets below.

Adrian looked toward Valentina finally. “You knew something was happening before tonight.”

She met his gaze evenly. “I knew Luca was becoming unstable. That usually means business problems.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Yes,” she said softly. “It usually is.”

The tension between them sharpened again.

Ever since the penthouse the night before, something had shifted slightly between them. Not trust exactly. Awareness.

The dangerous kind.

Arturo suddenly looked toward the window.

Then froze.

Adrian reacted instantly.

The apartment lights went dark before Valentina fully understood what happened.

Someone downstairs shouted.

Tires screeched outside.

Adrian grabbed Valentina’s wrist and pulled her away from the window just as gunfire erupted from the street below.

Glass exploded inward across the apartment.

Arturo cursed loudly in Spanish and dropped behind the kitchen counter.

More shots followed.

Closer this time.

Adrian’s gun was already in his hand.

Fast.

Terrifyingly fast.

He moved toward the side wall while watching the hallway entrance with cold precision.

“They found him,” Arturo whispered.

“No,” Adrian said calmly while checking the magazine in his weapon. “They found us.”

Another burst of gunfire echoed outside.

Valentina’s heartbeat remained strangely steady.

Years around violence had taught her panic rarely improved survival.

Still crouched near the wall, she looked toward Adrian. “How many?”

“Outside? At least four.”

“You counted that already?”

“I counted before the second vehicle stopped moving.”

Of course he did.

Arturo looked seconds away from collapse. “We need to leave.”

“We can’t use the front exit,” Adrian replied. “They’re waiting for movement.”

The apartment suddenly felt much smaller.

Snow.

Gunfire.

Dark hallways.

The air smelled like dust, adrenaline, and shattered glass.

Valentina realized something then.

Adrian looked more alive now than he had at the gala.

Not happy.

Not excited.

Just completely certain of himself inside danger.

Like violence was the only environment his body fully understood.

Another gunshot shattered through the stairwell outside.

Closer.

Arturo flinched violently.

Adrian didn’t.

He turned toward Valentina instead. “Is there another exit?”

She nodded once. “Fire escape through the back kitchen.”

“Good.”

“You sound relieved.”

“I prefer options.”

A strange laugh nearly escaped her at that.

Even now.

Even here.

Adrian glanced toward her sharply. “What?”

“You’re insane.”

“No,” he said calmly while checking the hallway again. “I’m experienced.”

The distinction should not have sounded attractive.

Unfortunately, it did.

Five minutes later they slipped out through the rear fire escape into the freezing storm behind the building. Snow whipped violently through the alleyways while distant sirens echoed somewhere farther downtown.

Arturo fled first toward the next street over.

He never made it.

A gunshot cracked through the alley.

Arturo collapsed instantly into the snow.

Valentina stopped cold.

Adrian’s arm locked around her waist before she could move toward the body.

“Don’t,” he said sharply.

More gunfire exploded nearby.

Adrian pulled her hard against the alley wall as bullets struck brick beside them.

The cold suddenly vanished beneath the heat of adrenaline and his body shielding hers.

Too close.

Dangerously close.

Valentina could feel his heartbeat now.

Steady.

Controlled.

Completely unlike her own.

Adrian looked down at her briefly beneath the snowfall, gray-blue eyes sharp with focus and something darker she couldn’t fully name.

Then he pressed his gun into her hand.

“If we get separated,” he said quietly, “don’t hesitate.”