Late afternoon light filtered through the wide glass panels of the café, casting warm streaks across the wooden counter. The place carried a gentle hum—soft music, muted conversation, the clink of porcelain. Sophia sat at the bar, posture relaxed, fingers wrapped around a ceramic cup still releasing steam.She took a slow sip, eyes briefly closing. “This is consistently good,” she said. “You never disappoint.”Nathan smiled from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a clean cloth. “Coffee behaves well when it’s treated kindly.”Sophia laughed under her breath. “You sound like a philosopher disguised as a barista.”“Maybe I got tired of loud lives,” Nathan replied. “This one is quieter.”She glanced around the café, taking in the atmosphere—plants hanging from wooden beams, sunlight touching every corner, customers lingering without urgency. “I understand why you like it here.”“I do,” Nathan said honestly. “It’s slow. People come without rushing, leave without stress. It reminds me

The Dagger headquarters stood silent beneath a steel-gray sky, its gates sealed, lights dimmed, security shutters drawn tight as if the building itself had decided to retreat from the world. Nathan stepped out of the car first, his gaze fixed on the structure that once pulsed with military innovation and guarded secrets few nations ever learned.Aurora followed, tension visible in her shoulders. Adam exited last, scanning rooftops and blind spots out of instinct.“So this is it,” Aurora murmured. “Completely locked down.”Nathan nodded. “Sophia wouldn’t shut this place unless something catastrophic happened.”They approached the main gate. Two armed security officers immediately raised their hands, weapons not drawn but clearly ready.“Halt,” one of them ordered. “No entry.”“I need to get inside,” Nathan said calmly. “This is an emergency involving Abigail, the step-daughter of Sophia Hart.”The guard frowned. “You’re not authorized.”“She’s been kidnapped,” Nathan pressed. “Her life