Nicoletta Bellucci
The moment Nicoletta stepped out of the marble entrance of Palazzo di Venezia—columns towering behind her, the soft glow of the streetlamps spilling across the empty street—her footsteps echoed like a whisper of danger. Luciano didn’t follow her, even though she felt his gaze burning between her shoulder blades.
She reached for the keys to her car when a tall silhouette detached itself from the shadows.
“Where have you been?”
Marcus’s voice sliced through the silence like a blade.
She flinched. His eyes gleamed the way a wolf’s do when it’s cornered its prey. He leaned against the hood of his car, arms crossed over his chest. He looked calm, almost relaxed—but the fury vibrating beneath the surface was unmistakable.
“Walking. Needed some air.” She glanced down the
