(Alice)
Luxury has a sound.
It’s the soft whisper of silk against skin, the muted click of heels on marble, the low murmur of servants who know better than to speak too loudly. It’s the absence of urgency. The certainty that nothing is out of reach.
I grew up in that sound.
Which is why silence unsettles me.
I sit in front of the vanity as my maid brushes my hair, long strokes meant to soothe, to remind me of who I am. The reflection staring back at me is flawless—dark eyes sharp, lips painted carefully, posture straight. A woman meant to be seen beside powerful men.
Beside Luca.
And yet, no matter how perfect the image, I can’t stop seeing her.
Aria.
She doesn’t try to be noticed. That’s what makes her dangerous. She moves like someone who doesn’t belong, and men like Luca have a
