The rain fell in thin silver needles against the glass as Aria stood frozen in the middle of Luca's study. The fire crackled low in the hearth, shadows dancing across the polished wood and leather, but she barely noticed the warmth. Her gaze was fixed on the thick brown envelope Luca had placed before her, unmarked, unassuming, and yet pulsing with the weight of something she had spent her entire life searching for.
"You're shaking," Luca murmured softly from behind her, his voice a low rumble that wrapped around her like a blanket. "You don't have to open it now."
But she did. God, she had to.
Her fingers trembled as she reached for the flap and tore it open. Inside was a stack of yellowed documents, some stamped with government seals, others scribbled with hastily written notes. There were photos too. Black and white surveillance shots, a few newspaper clippings, and one picture that nearly sent her knees buckling.
