Page 7 of Lorenzo

Genevieve turns to face him.

“Tomorrow?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

The word is too serious for the night they have had.

Alessio does not treat it lightly.

“I promise.”

She steps closer and kisses him once. Not like before. Not hungry or teasing or designed to pull him back into bed.

This kiss is brief.

Almost careful.

When she pulls away, her eyes shine a little in the low light, though whether from desire, exhaustion, or something else entirely, he cannot tell.

“Goodnight, Alessio.”

“Goodnight, Genevieve.”

He leaves her standing near the bed, one hand still holding her dress, preparing to fix what he helped undo.

In the hallway, the door clicks shut behind him.

The sound feels too loud.

Alessio pauses for one second, looking back at the closed door. Room 1519. He notes it automatically, the way he notes the camera near the end of the corridor, the quiet elevator bank, the empty hallway stretching in both directions.

Nothing looks wrong.

Nothing feels wrong either.

Only the low, reluctant pull in his chest as he walks away from a woman he met tonight and already wants to see again.

He tells himself he is being dramatic.

Tomasso would call him sentimental.

Edoardo would call him careless.

His father would call him late.

Alessio smiles faintly and heads for the elevator.

The time is just after midnight.

Chapter One

Lorenzo

My phone rings at 2:43 in the morning.

I reach for it before I am fully awake, the sound cutting through the dark beside me.