Giovanni’s POV

I glanced at the wall clock for what felt like the tenth time tonight. The golden hands pointed to half past midnight, yet the house was still, almost hauntingly quiet. The ticking sound echoed through the vast living room like tiny footsteps in my chest.

Grey wasn’t home.

No calls, no messages—nothing. My stomach tightened with unease. This was the first time he’d stayed out this late without letting me know. He always called. Always, or either way if he can't reach ...