Chapter 29: The Night Before Lugano
The Maserati cut through the streets of Milan like a blade through silk.
Adriano drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting over Élise's on the center console not holding it exactly, just covering it. A weight. A warmth. A silent declaration that he was done pretending she was anything less than essential.
Neither of them spoke. The city blurred past the windows in streams of amber and gold, and Élise sat with her head tipped back against the seat, her eyes half closed, the emerald dress still draped around her like a battlefield flag. She was exhausted in a way that went deeper than her bones. The kind of exhaustion that came from standing in a room full of enemies and refusing to fall.
But beneath the exhaustion something else was humming. Something electric and unresolved. Something that had been building since an elevator jolted in the Moretti Group tower and her fingers had brushed his for the first time.
