The city didn't sleep. It brooded in the dark, whispering secrets only the brave or the foolish dared to uncover. Max Hastings was neither; he was something else—desperate. The Cardinal's capture was a milestone, but the road ahead was paved with treachery and deceit. In the cold light of dawn, as the fog curled around the streets like a lover's embrace, Max knew the worst was yet to come.
Elena was at her desk, eyes fixed on the map of the city plastered against the wall. Red strings and pins marked their victories and losses, a chaotic web of corruption and crime. She turned as Max entered, the weight of their recent battle evident in the lines etched across her face.
"We made a dent, Max," she said, her voice weary. "But The Cardinal's empire is like a hydra. Cut off one head, and two more take its place."
Max nodded, his gaze hard. "We need to strike at the heart, dismantle his network piece by piece. Rita's information is a start, but we need more."
