The war room briefing ended. Vincent didn't ask. He gave the order. "Raven leads. Lucian and Dante with her. Non-negotiable. The rest of you reinforce the ports. They'll hit the warehouses again tonight to save face."
Raven didn't argue. She wanted this, needed it enough that her silence was its own answer. The reminder between her thighs from the night before sharpened with every step. Good, and she let it sharpen her. Caruso thought they could torch De Luca property and call her a whore without consequences. Tonight, she'd remind them why she used to be their worst nightmare.
In her private quarters, she stripped down and suited up. Matte-black tactical suit, second-skin tight, with a lightweight vest over it. Suppressed pistol on her hip. Knives where her fingers could find them blind. No silk, no ring on display. Just the assassin who'd survived seventeen years of Caruso hell.
