"Did you manage to sleep at all?" Nico asked flatly.
He was leaning against the doorframe of her suite, dressed in a sharp, charcoal-grey suit. Although he looked every bit the powerful Ferrante authority, his tired eyes and the tension around his mouth showed just how long the night had been.
Mara turned away from her vanity mirror, smoothing her hands down the heavy silk of her high-necked black dress. "Not for a single minute. Did you?"
"No," he replied. His jaw clenched. "Luca had the men sweeping the perimeter all night. Nothing."
"And Aunt Rosa?"
"She's resting in her wing," Nico said. "She has absolutely no idea that someone hijacked her ledgers."
Mara picked up her small black clutch from the dresser. "I'm coming with you to Mass today."
Nico's eyebrows pulled together in a slight frown. He didn't move from the doorway. "Are you sure about that?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because you haven't stepped foot inside the church since the funeral," Nico pointed out quietly.
