The aftermath of the battle left Krissan Jarrett’s compound in disarray. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the groans of the wounded. Salvatore moved among the injured, his face etched with concern and weariness. The victory over Deyonjay’s initial assault had come at a heavy cost, depleting their resources and leaving them vulnerable.
Krissan stood at the balcony of her office, her gaze fixed on the cityscape beyond. Her mind raced with plans and contingencies, but beneath her facade of resolve, doubt gnawed at her. Deyonjay had played her masterfully, luring her into a false sense of security before striking when she was most vulnerable.
“Ms. Jarrett,” Salvatore’s voice interrupted her thoughts. He approached with a solemn expression. “We’ve received reports of moveme
