Damon waited in the shadows across from Seraphine's house.The night was cold. The street was quiet. The moon was hidden behind clouds, casting long shadows across the pavement. Viktor crouched beside him, his body tense, his eyes fixed on the house. Tommy was in the car down the block, engine running, ready to move. Cruz was on the rooftop across the street, his rifle aimed at the front door. Rachel was coordinating from the gym, her voice crackling through the earpieces.Everything was in place. Seraphine had made contact with the Morettis. She had told them she wanted to switch sides. She had offered to give them information about the hit on the warehouse. They had agreed to meet her at her house. Tonight. Midnight.It was a trap. But the trap was for the Morettis.Damon checked his watch. 11:58pm. Two minutes until midnight. His heart was pounding. His palms were sweating. His mind was racing with all the things that could go wrong."Stay sharp," Damon whispered. "They're coming.

The restaurant was hidden in the back of a narrow alley on the south side.No sign. No windows. Just a plain wooden door with a small brass knocker. Damon had heard about this place through Marco. A man named Saito. Former underground fighter. Now a restaurateur. A man who knew things. A man who hated the Morettis. At least, that was what Marco had told them.Damon knocked three times. The door opened. A woman in a silk dress smiled at them. Her face was painted white. Her lips were red. Her eyes were empty. She looked like a doll."Mr. Saito is expecting you," the woman said. Her voice was soft. Musical. Unnatural.She led them through a narrow hallway. The walls were lined with paintings. Japanese calligraphy. Ancient swords. The smell of incense hung in the air. Sweet. Heavy. Cloying. It made Damon's head feel strange. Light. Distant.The room opened into a small dining area. Low tables. Cushions on the floor. A man sat at the head of the table. He was older. Sixties. Gray hair pul

The cell was cold.Damon sat on the cold floor, his back against the wall. The darkness was absolute. The silence was heavy. The only sound was the drip of water somewhere in the distance. Drip. Drip. Drip.He had been here for hours. Maybe longer. Time had lost meaning. His body was broken. His mind was numb. His heart was empty.But he couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up. Lucy was waiting for him. Tommy was counting on him. Viktor was depending on him.He stood up. His legs shook. His body screamed. He walked to the door. Ran his hands along the bars. They were solid. Iron. Rusted. There was a lock. Old. Heavy.He needed a way out."Tommy," Damon called. "Are you there?"Tommy's voice echoed through the darkness. "I'm here.""Can you see anything? A way out?"There was a pause. Then Tommy's voice again. "There's a grate. Above me. I think it leads to a ventilation shaft."Damon's heart raced. "Can you reach it?""I don't know. It's high. But I might be able to climb.""Try."Damo

Damon sat in the darkness of his office.The lights were off. The door was closed. The gym was silent. He had sent everyone home. Tommy. Cruz. Everyone. He needed to think. Needed to plan. Needed to figure out who the mole was.His mind raced through the possibilities. Tommy. Cruz. Rachel. Marco. It had to be Marco. The new variable. The one who had appeared out of nowhere. The one who had been too helpful. The one who had given them the map to The Pit.But Damon needed proof. He needed to catch him in the act. He needed to be absolutely certain before he made any accusations. Because if he was wrong, he would lose everyone's trust. If he was right, he would finally have the answers he needed.His phone buzzed. A text from Marco."I have new information about The Pit. Meet me at the warehouse. Midnight. Come alone."Damon stared at the screen. His heart pounded. His mind raced. This was it. This was the trap. Marco was going to try to lead him into an ambush. Or he was going to try to

There was chaos. Damon stood in the center of the main floor, his body trembling with exhaustion and rage. The team was scattered. Tommy was holding Rachel, his face buried in her hair. Cruz was checking the perimeter. Marcus and Elena were searching the basement for any sign of Mia.Damon's fists clenched. His jaw tightened. His heart pounded.They had rescued Rachel. They had rescued Viktor. But Mia was still out there. Still in danger. Still in the hands of the Morettis.Viktor was in the basement when they found him. Chained to a wall. Beaten. Bruised. His eyes were hollow. His body was broken. But he was alive."Where is she?" Viktor asked. His voice was hoarse. Desperate. "Where is Mia?"Damon knelt beside him. "We're going to find her. I promise."Viktor grabbed his arm. His grip was weak, but his eyes were fierce. "You promised me, Damon. You said you would help me save her.""I know. And I will."The team gathered in the main room.Tommy and Rachel were sitting on the floor