Meanwhile, inside a storage compartment...
The space was cramped, smelling of damp wood and old wine barrels. Roderick kept his eyes locked on Felix, his muscles coiled and ready to strike the second the man made a wrong move.
It didn't make sense. Felix had separated them from the main group, bringing them deep into an isolated storage room at the edge of the vineyard.
"Why are we here?" Roderick demanded, his voice low and sharp. "Where are Macron's men?"
Felix wasn't aiming his gun anymore. He lowered it slowly, letting out a long, tired breath. "They won't find us here."
Roderick frowned, stepping slightly in front of Milo. "What game are you playing?"
"No game," Felix said, looking directly at Roderick. "I'm trying to fix what I broke. I owe Salvatore a debt I can never fully repay, and this is the only way I know how to make up for it. I'm risking my own life just by bringing you two here."
"You worked with Alben," Roderick snapped. "Macron sent you, right?"
