The air in Milan tasted different—heavier, older, and laced with the faint, metallic tang of industrial fabric dyes. Sienna Vance stood before the imposing wrought-iron gates of *Tessitura Moretti*, the oldest and most prestigious silk mill in Northern Italy. The sprawling brick complex had been tur

The rain in Paris was relentless, drumming a steady, chaotic rhythm against the massive skylights of the Vance Couture studio. It was 1:00 AM. The rest of the atelier had gone home hours ago, leaving the sprawling, industrial-chic space bathed in the warm, low glow of drafting lamps.

Sienna stood

Kaelen didn't hesitate. Before the alarm’s third piercing shriek could finish echoing off the high ceilings, he was moving. He shoved Sienna behind him, his broad shoulders forming a physical barrier between her and the studio's main corridor.

"Stay here," Kaelen ordered, his voice a low, dangerou