L'Aura was a masterclass in understated wealth. Located on the neutral west side of the city, the restaurant featured dim, amber lighting, exposed brick walls, and private alcoves designed specifically for people who didn't want their conversations recorded.
Mara stepped out of the armored sedan. The night air was cool against her skin. She wore a deep emerald slip dress paired with a tailored black blazer, which was a deliberate mix of armor and elegance.
Luca stood by the car door, his eyes scanning the quiet street with lethal precision.
"The sweep is done, Regent," Luca said quietly. "The room is clean. Enzo and Matteo are already inside at the bar. If you need anything, touch your earring."
"Thank you, Luca."
She walked through the heavy glass doors. The maître d' didn't ask for a name; he simply bowed and escorted her to a secluded booth in the back corner.
Marco Vitale was already there.
