Inside the private room, the atmosphere shifted the moment the door closed behind Luca. Silence. Not the tense, suffocating silence of the restaurant outside but a controlled, refined calm. The kind that only existed in spaces reserved for power and money. Soft lighting cast a warm glow over the polished marble table. Crystal glasses reflected faint gold hues. Every detail—every object—spoke of exclusivity. Completely detached from the chaos outside. Lorenzo looked up the moment Luca stepped in. “There you are,” he said, his voice smooth, carrying a subtle warmth. “I heard there was some disturbance.” Luca walked in without urgency, his posture straight, his expression unreadable. “Nothing important,” he replied, pulling his chair back and sitting down with quiet composure. Across from him, Caterina’s gaze lingered briefly, assessing but saying nothing at first. Lorenzo leaned back slightly, studying Luca. “Still,” he said after a pause, “I apologize. The White Whale prides i

The car glided through the city. Its movement was smooth, almost silent, cutting through traffic like it belonged above it. Neon lights from towering buildings flickered across the tinted windows, painting brief flashes of color inside the otherwise dim interior. Inside—Silence settled comfortably. Not awkward. Not forced. Just quiet. Luca leaned back slightly against the leather seat, one arm resting lazily along the side. His gaze drifted toward the window, watching the city blur past in streaks of light and shadow. Beside him, Caterina sat with perfect posture, her presence composed, controlled—as if the chaos from earlier had never existed. “You handled that well,” she said finally. Her voice was calm, smooth, carrying a quiet acknowledgment rather than praise. Luca didn’t look at her immediately. “I’m getting used to it,” he replied. There was no pride in his tone. Just acceptance. Caterina turned her head slightly, studying him. “Getting used to being insulted?” she as

Inside the presidential suite everything was immaculate. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far wall, revealing the city below in a breathtaking display of lights and motion. The skyline glittered like a field of stars, distant yet commanding. The interior matched it—polished marble floors, soft ambient lighting, and furniture arranged with deliberate elegance. A private lounge occupied the center space, furnished with low leather couches and a glass table that reflected the golden glow above. To the side, a dining area stood untouched, pristine. Beyond that—Two separate bedrooms. Equal in size. Equal in luxury. Everything about the suite spoke of wealth. Not loud. Not desperate. But absolute. Luca stepped inside and stopped. For a brief moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His gaze moved slowly across the room, taking in the details—not with awe, but with quiet calculation. “This is… excessive,” he muttered. His voice broke the silence softly, almost as if he didn’t

Back in the suite, the city stretched endlessly below. From the height of the presidential floor, everything looked distant—small, insignificant. Lights shimmered across the skyline like scattered stars, traffic moving in thin lines of gold and red. The world below was alive, loud, chaotic— But up here—There was only silence. Luca stood by the window. Still. One hand rested lightly against the glass, his reflection faintly visible in the darkness. His posture was relaxed, but his presence carried something heavier now. Something colder. Behind him, the suite remained untouched. Perfect. Immaculate. Caterina stepped out from the second bedroom, the soft click of the door breaking the stillness. She paused briefly, her gaze settling on Luca’s back. She didn’t speak immediately. She waited. “I’ve seen enough,” Luca said. His voice was low. Controlled. But final. Caterina walked closer, her heels making soft contact with the marble floor. “Of her?” she asked. Luca didn’t t

Alessandro stepped out of the car later that night. The door closed behind him with a dull thud, the sound swallowed by the quiet of the street. The city had grown calmer—traffic thinner, voices distant, lights dimmer but still alive. A faint breeze passed through, carrying the cool edge of midnight. For a moment—He didn’t move. His posture remained relaxed, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging loosely at his side. But his expression—Changed. The easy smirk. The casual amusement. Gone. Replaced by something colder. Something sharper. “She’s hesitating,” he muttered. His voice was low, almost lost in the night air. But the words carried weight. His eyes narrowed slightly, gaze unfocused as his thoughts moved quickly beneath the surface. Inside the car— Isabella remained seated. Still. Silent. Watching. Alessandro exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening for a brief second before relaxing again. “She’s not supposed to hesitate,” he added under his breath. His tone shif