SOPHIA'S POV

The private VIP lounge on the third floor of the palazzo was dimly lit, and thick, soundproof velvet curtains kept it cut off from the grand ballroom below.

Director Victoria Sterling stood near a marble fireplace, swirling her champagne, looking down at the Venetian canal through a tall arched window. She was completely alone. Her private guards stood outside in the hallway, with no idea that I had gotten past them through the private terrace doors.

The room smelled of old smoke and expensive perfume. A single lamp burned on a side table, and the light from the window threw long shadows across the floor.

I stepped into...