C8 The Window

"Oh, dear. You're right on time."

The words curled from the door, making Ava's blood run cold.

Giulia hadn't called for anyone—she hadn't needed to. She had simply driven them here, sipping wine in the corridor as if waiting to see what might come next.

"The window," Alessio muttered, trying to sit up, his face ashen, then collapsing back against the pillows with a hissed intake of air