Epilogue: The Golden Cage

Six Months Later

The morning sun over the Mediterranean was blinding, reflecting off the turquoise water in a way that made the entire world look like it was made of crushed diamonds. From the balcony of the villa in Amalfi, I could see the white yachts bobbing in the distance, but I didn’t look at them for long.

I didn’t look at anything for long without checking to see where he was.

Julian sat at a small wrought-iron table, a cup of black coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. He looked relaxed in a linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal...