The mechanical, harsh hum of Silvano’s power drill echoed off the glass walls, sounding to Elena like the steady construction of a gallows.
She stood frozen in the exact center of the plush Turkish rug, her hands clutched tightly over the front of her emerald green silk dress. Beneath the fabric, the sharp, folded edge of Leo’s smuggled letter bit directly into the skin of her chest, a physical brand burning against her frantic heartbeat. Every time Silvano shifted his weight, his heavy tactical boots crunching against the stray shards of dried ocean salt on the floorboards, Elena’s breath hitched. She was entirely convinced that if he looked closely enough, he would see the erratic, unnatural square outline hidden against her pale skin.
Silvano didn't look up. His face remained a mask o
