Page 3 of Lorenzo

He does laugh.

But his body reacts first.

Genevieve notices.

Of course she does.

She is not shy. She is not sweet in the usual way. There is something polished about her, something practiced, but not false exactly. More like she has learned how to stand in any room and become exactly what she needs to be.

Alessio understands that.

Maybe that is why he keeps talking to her.

Maybe that is why, when her hand brushes his sleeve, he does not step back.

Maybe that is why, when she leans closer and says the music is too loud, he hears himself ask where she would rather go.

Her room is at the Halston.

He knows he should say goodnight.

He even thinks about it as they step out of the club and into the summer night. The air is hot and heavy, the sidewalk still giving back the day’s heat. Cars slide past at the curb. Somewhere down the block, someone laughs too loudly, and a siren wails in the distance before fading into traffic.

Genevieve walks beside him instead of ahead of him.

He likes that too.

Most women either drift closer or hold back, testing how much space he will claim. Genevieve matches him. Step for step. Her shoulder near his arm. The scent of her perfume mixing with the city. Something floral, yes, but darker beneath it. Spiced.

“You are very quiet suddenly,” she says.

“I was thinking.”

“About whether this is a mistake?”

He glances at her.

Her expression is amused, but her voice has changed. Softer. Less performance now. More woman.

“Is it?” he asks.

“That depends on whether you make a habit of regretting beautiful women.”

“No.”

“Then perhaps you are safe.”

Alessio laughs under his breath. “Safe is not usually the word people use.”

“No?” She looks ahead again. “What word do they use?”

He thinks of the name Conti. Of the way people hear it and become either too careful or too eager. Of the way his father can walk into a room and alter the temperature without raising his voice. Of how many people look at Alessio and see the family before they see the man.

“Complicated,” he says.

Genevieve’s smile turns faintly sad for half a second.

Then it is gone.