She knew she should try to get some sleep.

It was after three in the morning, and Dante Damaso would undoubtedly be up, dressed, and disgustingly alert by seven.

She crawled into the king-size bed, which was positioned so she could still see the skyline.

She curled up on her side and stared down at the blinking lights of the traffic far, far below before drifting into a restless sleep.

Dante woke as he usually did, fully aware of his surroundings and not the ...