VINCENZO'S POV
"You should get some rest."
Salvatore's voice cut through the quiet night, his steps measured as he approached.
I didn't turn. My gaze was fixed on the distant city lights as I stared down at the lights, my hands gripping the balcony harder. Michael was behaving really weird.
The bastard wasn't picking up my calls.
The first thought that came to mind was that he had pulled some stunt, smuggled Adriana out of my reach, but his phone was still traced to Costa Rica. If he was still there, then this wasn't about him hiding her from me.
Something wasn't adding up.
"Go back inside," I muttered, my voice even, but firm.
Salvatore ignored me. Instead, he leaned against the banister, mirroring my posture as he looked out at the dark sky.
"Do you think we need to talk?" he asked.
I finally turned to him, my eyes landing on the plaster across his nose. A smirk tugged at my lips. Served him right.
"Do we?" I drawled, my tone dripping with sarcasm.
