Chapter 84

• We landed just after dawn. Milan was still quiet, its streets washed with early gold and the low hum of a city not yet fully awake. The car that met us at the terminal had tinted windows and no branded placard, just a driver who knew our names and spoke little English. Claudia had arranged everything in advance. She handed me the itinerary without commentary, as if even reading it aloud might disrupt the fragile steadiness I had managed to build.
• I watched the rooftops blur past as we moved through the city. The fabric capsule rested beside me in its garment bag, pressed flat like it was holding its breath. No labels. No press photos. Just the weight of something built in the quiet. Something made for a moment no one else had seen coming.
• Julian sat on my other side, his shoulder close, not quite touching mine. He had barely left my side for days. Not out of worry. Not out of duty. Simply presence. There were no questions left between us. No tactics. Just the quiet exchange of time, shared without demand.