Chapter 48 The Price Of Betrayal

• The city was restless tonight, humming with a quiet kind of violence, the kind that sat just beneath the surface, waiting for a reason to spill over.
• Madeline stood by the window of Dante’s estate, fingers curled loosely around the stem of her glass. She wasn’t drinking. She was thinking. Calculating. The skyline stretched before her, but her mind was elsewhere—in the past, in the war she had just started, in the inevitable reckoning that was coming.
• She exhaled slowly, pressing her palm to the cool glass.