Valerica arrived at Villa 4 with a bottle cradled in her arms like it was something precious. Knowing her, it probably was.
"I brought wine," she said, stepping through the doorway with that perfect posture she always had. Even in the evening light, even when she was supposed to be relaxed, she carried herself like royalty. Which, Vane supposed, she technically was.
He looked at the bottle as she set it carefully on his kitchen table. The label was old, elegant, the kind of thing that screamed "expensive" even to someone like him who knew nothing about wine.
"Should I be worried about where this came from?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Valerica's lips curved into the smallest smile. "Not at all. It's from my father's secondary cellar, not the primary one."
Vane blinked. "There's a difference?"
