Raven stepped out of the armored car into the mansion's underground garage. The engine ticked cool behind her, still hot from the drive. Vincent followed a half-step behind. Close enough his sleeve brushed her arm. Far enough he left the silence alone.
She didn't speak.
Neither did he.
The corridor to the main level stretched long and dim. Her boots hit marble with that faint gritty scrape from the Council chamber still stuck to the soles. Alessandro's voice clung to her skin like smoke—asset, property, finest weapon. The words crawled under her collar and made her neck tight.
She kept walking anyway. The question behind her ribs pressed warmer now, less like an old wound and more like something putting down roots she hadn't asked for but wasn't ripping out either.
Vincent peeled off toward the war room without a word. She felt his absence. Sudden drop in temperature. She kept moving.
