Alessandro’s POV
The air in my private office above the club was thick with cigar smoke and tension. I paced, the phone pressed to my ear, Lorenzo's voice a low murmur on the other end. "He's still at the Excelsior, Sandro. Meeting with the Rossi family. No sign of any unusual activity." Good. He needed time. Time to figure out how to handle Luke Goelet and his impossible demand.
A flash of memory – the opulent room I’d built just for meetings like these, the air thick with tension, Luke's smile as sharp as the blade he kept hidden beneath his tailored suit. "Let's cut to the chase, Alessandro," Luke said, his voice smooth as silk, but with an underlying steel. "I know she's here. In Rome. Under your protection."
I’d met his gaze, my expression carefully neutral, hand instinctively tigh
