They settled into the Kensington house that afternoon, a grand but unassuming Victorian townhouse with ivy climbing its brick facade and wrought-iron gates that creaked softly in the wind. Inside, it was a fortress of technology: hidden cameras, encrypted lines, and a study overlooking manicured gardens where Rafael could pace without fear of exposure. For a full week, they trailed Eliana discreetly, blending into the shadows of London's bustling streets.
