Chapter 61. Five Minutes

The house was silent, heavy with that late-night stillness that always made him restless.

Ezio moved through it quietly, the click of his shoes muffled against the old wood.

He found Dario in the study, half-asleep over a pile of folders. “We leave in twenty,” he said.

Dario blinked, already on alert. “Now?”

“Now. Bring only what you need. We’ll take Franco’s route—and make sure no one follows.”

Ezio didn’t wait for a reply. He turned away, heading upstairs.

In his room, he stripped out of his shirt and changed fast—dark clothes, clean lines, no noise. He holstered his gun at his back, slipped another into the inside pocket of his coat.

When he checked the mirror, the man staring back looked the way he always did before a job: calm, sharp, untouchable.

He lied to himself, just a little, that it was still true.

He stepped into the hall.

A faint creak stopped him. He turned, catching the glimmer of movement—a door cracked ope