Raven stood in the doorway of Vincent's study, the faint scent of aged leather and whiskey drifting toward her. The graze on her shoulder had settled into a dull, constant ache that flared whenever she lifted her arm too high. She kept it still now, sweater sleeve pulled low over the bandage. The mansion lay quiet around them, the war room empty for the first time in days. Outside the tall windows, night pressed against the glass like something waiting.
Vincent sat behind the heavy oak desk. The single lamp cast a low golden circle across the surface. An old ledger lay open in front of him, its pages yellowed at the edges, the Caruso crest embossed in faded black on the cover. He did not look up right away. His fingers rested on the edge of the page, perfectly still. The kind of stillness that came before a decision.
She stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft final sound.
"What did you find?"
