Yelena's chuckle was low and teasing, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement as she shot me a smirk. I couldn't help but smile back, shaking my head at her antics. But the moment was short-lived. Her laptop pinged with an incoming message, and her expression shifted instantly—sharp, focused, deadly. She leaned in, her fingers flying over the keys as she pulled up the encrypted file from GhostByte.
"This is it," she said, her voice dropping into something colder, something lethal. "The location where they're holed up."
She turned the screen slightly so I could see—a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, surrounded by high walls and heavily armed guards. "Looks like some mansion," she muttered, her lips curling into a smirk. "Fitting. The Italians always did love their dramatics."
