POV VICTORIA
I’ve spent four days in Milan watching Adrián disappear.
Not physically. Physically he’s here—at the same hotel, attending the same forum panels, sitting beside me at the networking dinners. But emotionally, mentally, he’s miles away. Somewhere I can’t reach him.
And I know exactly where he is.
He’s with them.
I’ve seen them. Of course I’ve seen them. It’s impossible not to when Adrián vanishes every morning at exactly ten, returning two hours later with an expression I’ve never seen on him before—something between awe and terror. Something that makes my skin prickle because I know that look.
It’s the look of a man who has just discovered something that changes everything.
This morning, after four days of tense silence where he avoids real conversation and I pretend
