Chapter Two

Nora’s POV

He came back on Tuesday at 7:41 p.m., six minutes after the official closing time.

I was alone on the main floor resetting a display of cashmere throws when the side-door buzzer cut through the quiet. My hand stilled on the fabric. I already knew who it would be before I checked the monitor. Luca stood under the exterior light in the same dark coat, posture relaxed, gaze fixed on the camera as if patience itself were a private language between us.

I let him in.

“Missed a detail on the Blackwell,” he said by way of greeting. His voice was low, almost conversational. “The edge...