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... nt of the blockade. The men had that calm, trigger-happy stillness that screamed professional killers—no wasted movement, no twitchy nerves. Just stone-faced motherfuckers with their guns pointed at his head like this was just another night at work.

Val? She didn't freeze. Didn't hesitate. Didn't blink. She just revved the engine. The growl of the bike ripped through the silence like a war cry.

"Val—"

"Shut up."

Luciano's pulse slammed against his skull. His grip ...

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