The night stretched like a velvet ribbon above them, deep slate-gray and hushed beneath low clouds that swallowed the stars. A faint mist lingered over the narrow coastal road, curling along the edges like breath on glass. The air was cool and damp, tinged with sea salt and the earthy scent of olive trees still wet from the late afternoon drizzle. Damien’s car cut through the haze with sleek determination, the soft hum of the engine a steady rhythm beneath the silence that pulsed gently between them.
The Aston Martin moved like a shadow along the winding asphalt, its headlights slicing through the thin fog that clung stubbornly to the trees and cliffs. The sea was somewhere out there—just beyond the hill line—whispering in the dark, wild and endless.
Inside the car, silence lingered, not
