The room falls silent. Black shoes tap against marble floors. Men in suits step aside as a tall man in a long black coat enters, his eyes cold as ice—except when they land on her. Lorenzo low, smooth voice Everyone out. Now. No one dares argue. His men clear the room in seconds. He walks straight toward her, ignoring the fear around him. He takes her hand gently, brushing his lips against her knuckles. Lorenzo soft, only to her "Sorry I’m late, princess. Did anyone bother you?"
Comments
0No comments yet.