The Moretti mansion feels different when Lorenzo isn't in it.
I stand at the base of the grand staircase, listening to the silence settle around me like dust. The house staff moved through earlier—I heard their careful footsteps, the whisper of cloth against marble—but they're ghosts here, trained to be invisible. Now it's just me and this mausoleum of wealth and secrets.
Lorenzo left an hour ago for a meeting with his captains. Business he didn't invite me to, which means either he doesn't trust me with it yet, or he's trying to protect me from something. I haven't decided which possibility annoys me more.
I should be working. I have files to review, contacts to cultivate, plans to make. Instead, I find myself climbing the stairs to the third floor, to the wing of the house I haven't e
