Luciano’s POV I wasn’t supposed to be in Tribeca that afternoon. The meeting uptown had ended early, and Jacob, my occasional bad influence, convinced me to check out a new artisan café a few blocks from where we used to grab greasy pizza in college. “You need more carbs and less stress,” he’d said. “And real espresso.” We walked the familiar streets, bathed in that calm, mid-afternoon lull New York sometimes gave you between its storms. People passed with purpose, coffee in hand, phones pressed to their cheeks, their lives unfolding at breakneck speed. I liked the chaos. It matched the noise in my head. But there was something quieter under the surface that day. A hum. A pull. It started when we crossed Franklin Street. I slowed my pace, my gaze catching on a boutique storefront under construction. The windows were half-covered in brown paper, but a faint logo was taped to the inside glass. Elegant. Feminine. Familiar, somehow. I stopped. “What?” Jacob asked, half
Terakhir Diperbarui : 2025-05-15
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