I stood motionless by the window of Rafael’s office, the cool evening breeze brushing against my skin, sending a faint shiver down my spine. I stayed hidden behind a large potted plant, the earthy scent of its leaves mingling with the faint traces of leather and cigar smoke that lingered in the room.
The sprawling grounds of the De Luca mansion stretched out before me, a picture of serene, manicured perfection. The immaculately trimmed hedges, the softly glowing lanterns along the cobblestone pathways, and the shimmering fountain in the distance all painted a deceptive picture of peace.
But it wasn’t the breathtaking estate or its carefully cultivated tranquility that held my attention tonight. My gaze was fixed on the figures gathered around the imposing oak conference table in the roo
