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Chapter 11: A SECRET ROOM
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Chapter 13: THE RIVAL ATTACK
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... curtains. I had barely slept, my mind replaying last night in the secret room—the photograph, the letters, the fleeting crack in his armor. But morning was different. Morning was steel and coldness, and Don Luca was no longer the man who had let me glimpse his heart.
He sat at the dining table, perfectly groomed in his tailored suit, sipping espresso like a king surveying his empire. I walked in, my chin held higher than I felt.
"Good morning, Mrs. Luca," he said, voice smooth, ...
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