The sky over Rome was painted in deep hues of purple and steel, the final light of day bleeding into the dark.
But Sienna didn’t notice.
Not the color, not the breeze off the Tiber, not even the distant bell tolling from an ancient cathedral.
She only saw the path ahead—and the wreckage she was about to make of it.
Back in the black SUV, silence wrapped around her and Luciano like a shroud.
He didn’t speak.
He didn’t have to.
The tension in his jaw, the way his hand lingered too long near his weapon—it said enough.
“She would’ve killed you for a little more money,” he finally muttered, eyes on the road.
“I know.” Sienna stared out the window.
“That’s why she’ll live long enough to watch every lie crumble.”
Luciano gave a short nod. “And when she’s seen enough?”
“I’ll bury
