Seraphina adjusted the thin strap of her silk blouse and glanced at her reflection in the hallway mirror. Her long black hair flowed over her shoulders like a waterfall, her lips painted a bold crimson, and her almond eyes, sharp and unreadable, sparkled with subtle determination. ‘This man acts like I’m entering his circus... with him as the clown master. You’ve survived worse than this, Seraphina. Breathe. Just take him his damn coffee.’ she thought.
She smoothed her hair and held her breath. Balancing the sleek tray with practiced hands, she pushed open the door to Vincenzo’s room. The scent of expensive cologne, musk, and faint cigar smoke hit her instantly. She stepped in silently, placing the coffee cup beside the bed.
“Sir…” she whispered, gently removing the sheet from his fac
