Damian stood by the fireplace, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, firelight painting sharp lines across his jaw.
He was staring into the flames, lost in thought.
"Luca should've been back by now," Isabella murmured.
"He will," Damian said.
"He knows what he's doing."
"But you don't trust him," she said quietly.
His eyes flicked toward her, unreadable. "Trust isn't the issue.
Timing is."
She frowned.
"And what does that mean?"
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It means my father's too careful.
Too patient.
If he's making moves now, it's because he already has someone inside."
Isabella hesitated.
"Someone… close?"
He didn't answer.
His silence was louder than anything he could've said.
The door opened suddenly. Luca stepped in, rain dripping from his coat, tension written all over him.
"Talk," Damian said immediately.
Luca dropped a small flash drive onto the desk.
"System breach. Someone cleared the footage an hour before the explosion."
