d went
hit like a bomb, ex
me from
uld th
street artist, nothi
e possibly w
straightened, savoring
ed two glasses of whiskey. "Three mont
ass. "A painting
contracted
painte
olden cage, its feathers vibran
anniversary of my
ok me to a high
king glasses, everyone
n outsider, o
etworking, lea
m politicians and
t, he felt li
belonged to di
like stepping int
inted Ca
t, I never spoke
Alessand
n't it?" His voice pull
n't a
a sip of whiskey, a strange glin
olatile man orchestrated this elabo
s abs
down his glass. "He handed over
thing o
that
felt a bone-deep chil
n't a
us hunter, contro
we were all pawns
s. Marcello." His tone l
do you want wit
row. "To have you do what
over me, bold
tively, clutching the
ch you until you're willing. I
cold, unyielding silhouette. "T
to a second-
s and ornate, yet it
a vast rose garden
omed vividly, alm
slipped into a silk nightdr
on the soft bed b
ella, Ale
lickered thro
been upended
r, my phon
as L
ashing on the screen, h
ced with urgency and panic. "Are yo