It was nearly three o'clock in the morning when the armored convoy returned to Castello di Moretti from the gala in Palermo. The ancient castle was shrouded in a blanket of silver mist rising off the Ionian Sea, the cool mountain night air carrying the scent of blooming night jasmine, damp pine needles, and ozone. Lucia had kicked off her high-heeled evening shoes in the grand library of the keep,…
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