The syndicate's siren.

r, it felt out of sync, a dull thrum against the quiet churn in her gut. The air, typically still and cool, now carried a faint metallic tang, like old coins mixed with

d from Caspian's end, a rare moment of genuine hesitation from the usually unflappable handler. Then, his voice returned, slightly less synthesized, almost-thoughtful. "The client was very specific about those. They hint at a deeper power within the Moretti Syndicate, a history that goes back further than anyone suspects. That's the real value of this intel, Ghost. It's not just about money or crime bosses. It's about bloodlines and legacies." Zara walked to a grimy window, the glass dull with years of grime, and looked out at the distant sparkle of the city's lights. The faint hum of traffic from far away was a distant lullaby. "It feels... complicated," she said, the word feeling too small for the swirling thoughts in her head. "Moretti. He's not just some mobster. He moves like... like he's always known power. Like it's in his bones. And those whispers of his 'luck,' the way he kept evading me... it's more than just good security." She found herself describing the almost imperceptible flicker she'd seen in his office window. "There was something. A light, but not a light. Gone in an instant. Like starlight caught in a mirror, then swallowed by shadow." "Interesting," Caspian mused. The single word was laced with a new kind of curiosity. "The client did mention rumors of innate abilities within the Moretti line. Call it intuition, an enhanced sense. They refer to it as 'The Moretti Sense,' a kind of low-level foresight." "Foresight?" Zara scoffed softly, the sound a dry, rustling noise in the quiet space. But there was no real derision in it, only a strange, unsettling wonder. Her own abilities, the subtle shifts in perception that made her a phantom, were almost unnoticed by those who weren't looking for them. Could he possess something similar, or even stronger? The thought was both unsettling and strangely... thrilling. It made him less of a distant target and more of a complex, dangerous puzzle. "This changes things, doesn't it?" she mused, thinking aloud, her voice a low murmur.