The private jet descended toward the rooftop of Dimitri's Rome penthouse with the precision of a pilot who'd made this landing a hundred times.
Eve was pressed against the window, watching Rome spread out below them in all its ancient glory. The Colosseum. The Vatican. The Tiber River winding through the city. Seven hills covered in terracotta roofs and olive-green trees and the kind of history that made everything feel both timeless and impossible.
"It's beautiful," Eve whispered.
"Wait until you see it from the penthouse," Dimitri said.
The plane touched down with barely a tremor. The engines powered down. The private airstrip crew moved into position for disembarkation.
Dimitri stood and extended his hand to Eve.
She took it, and he pulled her up and into his arms for a moment, just holding her before they stepped out into Rome.
