Chapter 4 — The Gallery's Echoes

Vivi

The Galleria Moreau welcomed Vivi with its usual pristine quiet, the faint scent of varnish and fresh paint lingering in the air like an old friend. The soft click of her heels against polished marble echoed through the empty gallery, the sound swallowed by the high ceilings and glass walls that flooded the space with sunlight. Here, she could breathe. Here, she wasn’t Dante Russo’s wife, a pawn in a dangerous game, or the daughter of a man whose debts had chained her to a life she’d fought so hard to escape.