CHAPTER 19
The drive back to Alessandro's villa took about twenty minutes.
Celia yawned as the car stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. He was tired, but he still had to report. Everything had gone smoothly — almost too smoothly — and he needed to tell Alessandro before the man heard it from someone else.
He headed straight for the study; it was empty. Thankfully one of the maids quietly pointed him toward the private wing. Alessandro's bedroom was further down the hall, away from the rest of the house.
Celia stood in front of the door for a second, hand raised to knock. Then he sighed, pushed it open, and stepped inside, closing it behind him.
The room smelled like him.
The same expensive cigarette brand mixed with that sharp, clean cologne that always clung to Alessandro's clothes. Celia's eyes drifted around the large space for a moment, taking in the dark furniture and the soft light from the bedside lamps.
