Nicoletta stepped out of the bakery with a paper bag in one hand and a latte in the other. The sunlight cut into her eyes, but she noticed the sleek black Maserati parked at the curb at once. Marcus was leaning against the passenger door, his expression unreadable, a faint smile playing on his lips.
“I’ll wait until you come to me on your own,” he said as their eyes met.
She walked closer, but stopped a few steps away.
“Oh, maybe we can skip the drama?”
“No drama today, Letta,” he said calmly. “Today I want to give you a day beyond these walls. Beyond rumors. Beyond lies. Just you and me. No guards. No clan. Just the wind, the setting sun, and you—alive. Victorious. That’s how I see you.”
He opened the passenger door for her.
“Come on. Your car will follow us. My driver will take car
