Valentina's POV
Enzo was already there when we arrived.
He was seated at the head of a long table in a room that was seemingly ordinary, yet some of the items there were the world rarest, and most expensive items.
The walls were bare stone. The lighting was fluorescent and unflattering. The water jug sitting at the center of the table looked like it had been taken from an office breakroom.
But the chair Enzo sat in was Milanese leather, hand-stitched, the kind that cost more than most people earned in a year. The watch on his wrist was a Patek Philippe, a reference she recognized from a briefing file, limited edition, fewer than twenty in existence. The glass in front of him was Baccarat crystal, catching the ugly fluorescent light and refusing to be diminished by it.
