Marco’s POV
Rain battered the shower glass, each drop echoing the tension in my chest. Steam curled into the dim light overhead, but I could still feel the storm in me—rage, guilt, panic. The day from hell replayed in my mind.
The business meeting in Milan fell apart halfway through, which meant I could come back home. I had checked my phone every few minutes, expecting any feedback from her but nothing. So I decided to take a night flight back ahead of schedule.
My flight was quiet, almost too quiet. I remember checking the sky and knowing it would rain—like it did the night I first saw her trembling in front of my car. Something about rain always brought trouble.
By the time I got home, she wasn’t back from her lesson. It was past 10pm.
I brought out my phone to track her through he
