Morning broke over Naples with the faint cry of gulls and the smell of salt drifting in from the sea. But inside the Rossi villa, dawn carried no peace. It carried whispers, hurried footsteps, and the bitter tang of fear.
Adriana rose from her bed to find her maid pale and trembling, her hands fumbling with the silken ties of the gown.
“What is it?” Adriana asked, her voice still husky from sleep.
The girl swallowed. “There was… an ambush, signorina. Last night. At the docks.”
Adriana’s heart stilled. “Whose men?”
“Don De Luca’s shipment,” the maid whispered, darting her eyes nervously toward the door. “They say the Morettis struck… but others say the Morettis shouldn’t have known. Someone must have told them.”
A chill spread through Adriana’s chest. A betrayal.
She dismissed the ma
