SERAFINA'S POV
The cab dropped me outside Lorenzo Vitale's gallery at exactly 8 P.M. I sat in the back seat for few seconds preparing myself.
I checked my reflection in the compact mirror for the last time. The emerald silk dress I was wearing was elegant without being flashy. My hair were in soft waves past my shoulders with minimal jewellery including the silver pendant Matteo had given me.
I stepped out of the car. The gallery was stunning. Through the tall windows, I could see people inside in designer clothes, holding champagne glasses talking to each other.
"You can do this." I whispered to myself.
I walked towards the entrance, and the doorman opened the door with a smile.
"Good evening, Miss."
"Thank you." I smiled back.
From inside, the gallery was even more beautiful. There were renaissance paintings on the walls, and sculptures at the corners. Classical music had been playing softly making the ambience even more classy.
I accepted a champagne flute from a passing waiter and scanned the room looking for Lorenzo Vitale. I'd memorized his face from surveillance photos, but I didn't see him yet.
"Ms. Moretti!" Elena approached me with her hand extended.
"Hi!" I shook her hand. "Thank you so much for this opportunity. I still can't believe my work is here."
"Your pieces are gorgeous. Come, let me show you."
She led me through the crowd to the main exhibition wall. And there I saw my paintings, under professional lighting, looking better than they ever had in my studio.
There were three pieces of mine: A woman reading in candlelight, a child playing in a fountain, and an old man's hands holding prayer beads.
I'd painted them myself over months to build my cover.
"They're beautiful." Elena said. "Mr. Vitale loved them."
"Is he here tonight?"
"Oh yes, he is in his office with a buyer but he'll make his rounds." She leaned in. "He's been looking forward to meeting you. He loved your portfolio."
Perfect.
Everything was going exactly as planned. So why did I feel like I was walking into a trap?
"I look forward to meeting him too." I smiled.
Elena was pulled away by another artist wanting to discuss something. I was left alone with my paintings and a glass of champagne I didn't want to drink.
I walked around the gallery, looking at other artworks, listening to conversations, remembering exits and security cameras.
That's when I felt someone watching me. I turned casually, scanning the crowd, and there, by the bar, was a man staring at me.
He was Dante Vitale, Lorenzo's younger brother.
I recognized him from surveillance photos. The reports said he was the family disappointment who was neither smart nor ruthless enough, who was always in his brother's shadow.
Right now, he was looking at me like I was his prey. I turned away, pretending I hadn't noticed, and walked towards the Caravaggio exhibition in the next room.
Focus on the mission. Ignore the little brother. Find Lorenzo.
The painting was stunning. I'd only seen it in books, but now it was hanging in front of me. I stepped closer, genuinely absorbed for a moment. This was why I'd chosen art as my cover, because I actually understood and loved it.
In another life, maybe I would have been an artist for real.
I stepped backward to get a better view of the painting when I collided with something solid.
My champagne splashed. It fell on my dress, and the glass slipped from my hand but a pair of hands caught the glass before it shattered.
"Careful."
I turned, and looked directly into the eyes of Lorenzo Vitale.
Time stopped. I'd seen his photographs but he was different in real. His features were too sharp and magnetic to be captured by a camera.
"I'm so sorry!" I gasped, coming back into my senses, reaching for the napkin in my clutch. "I wasn't watching where I was…"
"It's fine." He caught my wrist gently before I could dab at his shirt. "The shirt was expensive, but I'll survive."
His touch sent electricity in my arm. I forced myself not to react. I pulled my hand back slowly, and gave an apologetic and charming smile.
"Let me at least buy you a drink." I offered.
"You're Sera Moretti."
He knew who I was.
"And you're Lorenzo Vitale." I said, extending my hand. "I've been hoping to meet you. Thank you so much for including my work tonight."
He took my hand. His grip was firm, and warm. The contact made my skin burn.
"Your work is exceptional." He was still holding my hand. "I'm surprised I haven't heard of you before."
I gently freed my hand from his grip.
"I'm surprised you noticed me at all. This gallery is filled with experts."
"I notice everything. Especially beautiful anomalies."
Was that a compliment or a threat? With Lorenzo Vitale, it was probably both.
Someone called his name from across the room. He glanced away for a second.
"I should…" He gestured toward the collector who was calling him.
"Of course. I'm sure you have a lot of people to talk to tonight."
"But only one I'm interested in talking to." He said casually, and then he left.
I stood there alone with my pounding heart, trying to remember how to breathe.
LORENZO'S POV
I'd been watching her for ten minutes before the collision.
Sera Moretti had arrived exactly on time, stepped out of the cab with grace that could be training or could just be natural elegance. And I recognised her immediately. She was the same girl from the photograph.
I was at the back of the gallery watching when Elena greeted her. She was confident, and professional. That's what bothered me. Everything about her was too professional for someone who was just a struggling artist grateful for the opportunity.
I'd seen her eyes scanning the security cameras. I noticed how my brother was looking at her. He was predictable. He saw a beautiful woman and immediately wanted her.
Then, she walked to the Caravaggio exhibition. She looked at the painting with genuine appreciation. That's when I decided to approach her.
SERAFINA'S POV
The next two hours were the longest performance of my life. Lorenzo came to me three times. Each time, we talked about art, the pieces in his gallery, and had some conversations which were normal for others but not for me.
"Tell me about Florence." He said during our second conversation. "Which part of the city you're from?"
"San Frediano, near the Arno." I'd memorized the neighborhood, walked its streets during my cover building trips.
"Beautiful area. There's a small church there, Santa Maria del Carmine. Do you know it?"
He was testing me. He was testing if I actually knew the neighborhood.
"With the Brancacci Chapel. I used to sit there for hours."
"Your grandmother, Elena mentioned she raised you. What was her name?"
This was more personal.
"Maria." I replied with a common name which was hard to verify. "She died two years ago."
"I'm sorry." He sounded genuine. "My mother died too. Long time ago."
"It's hard losing the person who raised you."
"Yes." He was quiet for a moment. "Did she support your art?"
"She thought I should be practical, and get a real job." I smiled sadly. "But she left me a small inheritance when she died. It was enough to take a chance on this dream."
Lorenzo nodded.
"She'd be proud. Your work is remarkable."
"Thank you."
"I'd like to commission a piece."
"Really?"
"Something personal for my private collection. Perhaps we could discuss it over dinner? Tomorrow night?"
This was it. The next phase of the mission. I should have felt triumphant. Instead, I felt trapped.
"I'd be honored."
"7 P.M. I'll send a car."
"You don't have to…"
"I want to."
We exchanged numbers. His fingers brushed mine as he took my phone to enter his contact information. His touch was electric.
This man was my target, and my enemy. So why did every cell in my body was trying to betray me?
LORENZO'S POV
The gallery emptied around 11:30. The last guests were leaving, thanking me for the evening but I barely heard them.
My attention was on Sera as she said her goodbyes to Elena, gathered her things, and prepared to leave. I walked towards her.
"Let me have my driver take you home." I offered.
"Thank you, but I have called a cab already." I smiled.
"It's late. The city isn't always safe."
"I'll be fine." I said politely.
She was refusing. Why? Because she didn't want me to know where she lived?
"Tomorrow then." I said. "7 P.M."
"I'm looking forward to it."
She left in the cab. I watched through the window until the car disappeared.
"She's beautiful." A voice came from behind.
I turned and saw my brother leaning against the wall with a drink in his hand and watching me with calculating eyes.
"The artist, Sera. What's her story?" He asked.
"Nothing that concerns you."
"Everything about you concerns me, bro. We're family."
"Family doesn't mean you get to know my business."
"But it also doesn't mean I can't be curious. She's different. There is something intense about her."
"She's an artist. I might commission a piece. That's all."
"Is it? Because the way you were looking at her all night says it's more than that."
I turned away.
"Go home, Dante."
"Careful, Lorenzo." He said as I walked towards my office. "Beautiful women who appear out of nowhere are usually too good to be true."
I shut my office door, cutting off whatever else he was going to say. Marco was waiting in my office with his laptop open.
"Sera Moretti is the same woman from the photograph. Find out where she really lives, who she talks to. I want to know every detail of her life."
"You think she's the threat?" Marco asked as he started working on the laptop.
"She's too perfect and prepared. I'm going on a dinner with her tomorrow to see what she does next. People reveal themselves when they think they're winning."
SERAFINA'S POV
I sat in my fake apartment after changing my clothes and removing makeup. The mission was proceeding exactly as planned. I sent a message to Matteo:
Target engaged. Phase two initiated.
His reply came immediately:
Be careful. Vitale is more dangerous than the others.
Like I didn't know that.
"You're a professional." I reminded myself. "This is just another mission. He's just another target."
After that, I lay on my bed thinking about the dinner tomorrow.
Tomorrow, everything would change. I just didn't know if I was the hunter or the prey now.