The Queen's Countermove

Vittoria

The air in the office hummed, a subtle blend of gun oil and stale coffee. Zev had been here earlier, tending to his surveillance feeds while I dealt with external matters. I sank into my chair, a glass of water in hand, and allowed myself a single, drawn-out exhale. It didn’t bring much relief. My mind was already racing, replaying the interaction with the Bruiser. Cocky, arrogant, danger