LUCAS'S POV

The masked ball at Palazzo Contarini was a work of art built entirely on lies.

Hundreds of rich Europeans, dressed in beautiful evening gowns, dark tuxedos, and fancy gold-and-porcelain Venetian masks, moved across the grand marble ballroom under sparkling glass chandeliers. Soft violin music floated through the air, hiding the cold, deadly deals taking place in the private rooms upstairs.

Sophia and I stepped off the private boat onto the palazzo's landing steps, arm in arm.

The building rose above us in old stone and gold light, its windows glowing like a hundred small fires against the dark canal. Servants in white gloves moved silently among the guests...