The roar of the AgustaWestland helicopter blades slammed against the glass facade of Moretti Tower, sending low-frequency vibrations deep into Dante Moretti’s bones. On the private helipad at the summit, the Milan night wind howled, carrying the sharp scent of jet fuel and a biting chill. Dante stood firm at the center of the landing pad, his black suit whipping in the wind, his body as unshakable as a marble pillar.“Boss, they land in ten seconds,” Maya’s voice hissed clearly in his ear. “I detect six vital signs inside the helicopter. All with extremely low heart rhythms, professionals, likely Special Air Service units hired by Sterling. And one heart beating with the arrogance of an old noble. That’s Sterling.”“Kael, your position?” Dante asked into the mic at his collar.“I’m on the transmission tower, thirty meters above you. My sniper rifle is locked on the helicopter door hinge. If they make a move I don’t like, that door will never open,” Kael replied coldly.Elena Rossi ste

The low-frequency hum of Victor Thorne’s neural scanner filled the medical chamber of Moretti Tower. Dante Moretti sat reclined, allowing small sensors to cling to his temples and the back of his ears. In his dark world, the machine’s sound resembled the growl of a jet engine preparing for takeoff. He did not move at all, not even when Victor injected a neural stabilizing serum directly into the base of his neck.“Your auditory nerves are still in the regeneration phase, Dante,” Victor said, shutting off the scanner with a sharp click. “That stunt with Fontana’s satellite last night almost left you completely deaf. You are playing with fire that could burn away what remains of your senses.”Dante drew a long breath, savoring the pure oxygen supplied through the room’s ventilation system. “Silence is a greater threat than deafness, Victor. If I had not shut down that satellite, Alessandro would have triggered Red Echo through Lorenzo’s brain. When that happens, we all become meaningles

The top floor of the Grand Lisboa Palace was an architectural masterpiece that blended European luxury with rich Eastern symbolism. Inside the Presidential Suite, the air was cool from the whispering climate control system, a stark contrast to the suffocating humidity of Macau beyond the floor to ceiling windows.Dante Moretti sat in a mahogany chair, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of a heavy titanium Montblanc fountain pen. He was not writing. He was listening to the ticking wall clock, synchronized with the hum of Maya’s servers in the corner.“Boss, I’ve digitally isolated this entire hotel sector,” Maya’s voice came through the small speaker on the desk. “But I’m detecting a ‘gap’ in the corridor camera system. Someone is looping the feed manually. Very clean, very traditional.”Dante tilted his head. “Traditional means they don’t trust binary code, Maya. They trust the knife in their hand.”Elena Rossi stepped in from the balcony, her silk dress whispering across the velv

Thin smoke from the shattered drone in Dante Moretti’s hand began to fill the corridor of the Grand Lisboa hotel. The scent of burned metal and scorched plastic crept into his nose, but he did not move. He stood upright in the middle of the hallway, his hand slowly releasing what remained of the machine’s frame. The metal struck the marble floor with a heavy clang that resonated long and deep."Boss, you just destroyed a toy worth five million dollars," Maya’s voice came through the earpiece, her tone a mix of awe and unease. "I’m dissecting the residual signal. Its control frequency, it isn’t coming from this building. It’s being relayed through an undersea fiber optic line leading to an offshore peninsula.""They don’t dare come close to me," Dante replied flatly. He wiped the blood from his palm onto his already torn suit. "Kael, clear this corridor. I don’t want any trace of Oversight technology left when Macau police arrive, if they even dare.""It’s handled, Dante," Kael answere

The cold stone walls of the hidden corridor felt like the skin of some ancient beast beneath Dante Moretti’s fingertips. Behind him, the steel door that had just sealed shut muffled the roar of seawater devouring the main tunnel. Dante breathed hard, his lungs still burning from salt vapor and fading adrenaline. Yet his senses did not rest. He turned his head toward the darkness ahead, where a man stood without a detectable heartbeat.“Why did you do it?” Dante’s voice was hoarse, echoing through the narrow passage. “An Oversight assassin doesn’t save his target. They erase it.”The man before him, the Silent Weaver, slowly removed his polymer mask. Dante heard the faint rasp of synthetic material. “My name is Cian,” the man said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “And I just realized I’ve been serving an architect who built a gravestone for my own mother. Julian Vane lied about that accident, Dante. Alessandro was only a tool, but Vane was the hand.”Dante drew a long breath, steadyin