The black limousine glided silently through the cold Italian night, eventually turning off the main road and winding its way towards the outskirts of a town Emilia didn't recognize. The journey was agonizingly long, each passing minute amplifying her fear and humiliation. Her pleas to Leonardo had been met with stony silence, his gaze fixed on his phone screen as if she were invisible.
Finally, the car slowed, then pulled up to a large villa. The night air, crisp and cold, was already thick with the pulsating beat of music and the murmur of distant voices.
Cars were parked haphazardly in front of the opulent house, hinting at a lively, perhaps raucous, gathering within. Instead of pulling up to the main entrance, the driver continued around to the back, pulling into a discreet, less vis
