Raven stood at the long war-room table, palms flat on the cool wood while fresh intelligence reports slid across the polished surface in a messy cascade of paper and red ink. Overhead lights carved hard shadows across the maps still bleeding from the depot loss, turning every black line into an open wound and every new pin into a fresh threat. The air hung thick with sharp printer toner and the faint metallic bite of dried blood still crusted on the edges of her sleeves. The chill crawling up from the floor kept her edges sharp while the rest of her body registered the shift in the room like a storm rolling in.
Vincent dropped the final folder without flourish. His voice stayed low, even, the kind that made everyone lean in whether they wanted to or not. "Caruso turned the Falcone family. The bigger plan isn't some shadow crew. It's a straight-up alliance."
The words slammed into the table like a brick through glass.
