Marco POV
Luca found me before I'd even sat down at the table that evening. I knew from his face it wasn't about the Bardi contract.
"She had dinner at Cracco," he said, keeping his voice low just between us. "Window table. She was with the art dealer."
I nodded once. I didn't let my face change. I signed the check and said goodnight to the men at my table like a man who had heard nothing more than a weather report.
I made it as far as the elevator before the first crack showed.
By the time I got upstairs to my penthouse, I wasn't a calm man anymore. I threw my jacket at the chair and missed. I poured a glass of scotch and didn't drink it. I just stood at the window with it, staring across at the dark hotel building where I already knew, with a certainty I hated myself for, exactly wh
