Chapter 4

Amber left the bookshop before the city fully woke.

The streets of Venice were quieter after sunrise, the mist giving way to gold light and slow-moving boats. But peace was a performance here—something staged for tourists. Beneath it, Venice still whispered. Still watched.

Her boots splashed lightly as she crossed a narrow bridge near the Arsenale district. It wasn’t part of her usual route. That was intentional. She never repeated patterns. Not anymore.

But that didn’t mean she was invisible.

She felt it again—movement in her peripheral vision. A flash of reflection. A breath too close. She turned, fast.

Nothing.

No tourists. No footsteps. Only water lapping at stone.

She moved faster now.

By the time she reached the small square near her apartment, her breath had shortened and her hand hovered near the pepper spray in her coat pocket.

She rounded the corner—and froze.

Her door was cracked open.

She hadn’t left it that way.

Her body locked up, instincts screaming. She stepped back slowly, breath shallow.

Then she heard it.

A faint creak inside.

Someone was in her flat.

She didn’t hesitate. Amber turned and walked away—calm, steady, like she didn’t notice. But inside, her pulse thundered. She took the back exit out of the square, pulling out her phone as soon as she was two blocks away.

> Amber: Someone’s inside. My flat.

XGhost: Get out. Now.

Amber: I’m already gone.

XGhost: No safehouses left in that zone. You’re exposed.

Amber exhaled sharply. Her location was blown. Whoever it was—they weren’t here to arrest her.

They were here to erase her.

Elsewhere in Venice, Zohaib’s eyes darkened as he read the security feed. Nico stood beside him, frowning.

“She wasn’t supposed to be back yet,” Nico said.

Zohaib didn’t reply immediately. He stared at the live footage of Amber’s apartment. A man in dark clothes was inside—carefully searching drawers, avoiding cameras.

“Not mine,” Zohaib said finally. “Someone else found her.”

Rayaan’s voice cut in from the comms. “Could be Junaid’s people. Or worse. This isn’t a warning. It’s a kill order.”

Zohaib’s jaw tightened. His hand clenched slowly by his side.

“She’s not ready,” he muttered. “She doesn’t know what Nyx really is.”

Nico nodded. “What do you want us to do?”

“Clear it,” Zohaib said. “Now. Clean. No trace. And bring her to me.”

Amber didn’t go far. Just far enough to hide in a crowd, watching the alley to her building from behind a fruit stall. She was trembling, but her face stayed still.

Then she saw it.

The man who’d entered her flat—now being dragged down the alley by two others. Fast. Efficient. Like ghosts in daylight.

She caught one glimpse of the taller one’s face.

Nico.

She didn’t know him well—but she’d seen him before. Once. Near Zohaib. Silent, watchful, loyal.

Her stomach twisted.

Zohaib had just saved her.

But that didn’t mean she was safe.

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