The first bullet cracked through the front sign of Maison du Louis, shattering the elegant cursive script like sugar glass. The hum of electrified silence that followed didn’t last long—shadows moved, boots thundered across cobblestones, and Scarlett found herself ducking behind the espresso bar with her heart hammering in her ears.Louis had already moved. Like a ghost in an apron.He was no longer just a man who cooked risotto like poetry—he was a strategist, a warrior, a predator.The three women—code-named Trinity, Spice, and Echo—burst into motion as if they'd never left the field. Spice flipped the espresso counter, revealing a tactical wall lined with smoke bombs, tear gas, EMP pucks, and a few decidedly illegal blades shaped like oyster forks."Extraction in eight!" Trinity shouted, tossing Scarlett a small earbud. "Stay low, stay quiet, and for God’s sake—don’t move unless Louis tells you to!"“I used to be a lawyer,” Scarlett muttered, inserting the earpiece. “Now I’m in a s