The next morning, Giovanni woke up to an empty, unusually quiet master suite.

He reached across the silk sheets, but the space beside him was already cold. When he checked the time, it was barely seven in the morning. Rosalia was usually fast asleep at this hour, but today, she had slipped out of the villa far earlier than necessary and left for campus without saying a word. She hadn’t left a note.

Giovanni sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his jaw as a dark, restless annoyance settled in his chest. It was strange behavior from her especially after the trauma of the party two nights ago. He...