Alex’s POV
Everything about Emilia’s body language told me she didn’t want us getting to the bank. I noticed the way her fingers kept twisting together, the forced smiles when I tried to ask her a question, and the quick glances she threw at me like she was measuring how much time she could waste.
She had brought a driver with her, introducing him as Patrick. “He knows the town well and can drive us to the bank,” she said.
When I told her I could use a map, she laughed. “I don’t want to stress you,” she added. “Let him drive.”
Something about the whole situation rubbed me the wrong way, but I decided not to argue. If she wanted a driver, fine.
We settled into the back seat while Patrick took the wheel. Then, halfway down the road, Emilia suddenly spoke again.
“There’s a boutique
