Makenna's POV.

The car ride to Le Train Bleu was enveloped in a serene silence, only interrupted by the soft hum of the Parisian streets outside. I glanced over at Wolfe, his gaze distant, lost in thought. His hand rested in his pocket, fingers fidgeting oddly. The sight of him so introspective tugged at my heart. I reached over and placed my hand on his other one, breaking his reverie.

He looked at me, his eyes softening. “What are you thinking about?”

I smiled, ...