Giovanni POV

The clink of cutlery was the only sound between us for a while.

Gray didn’t talk when he ate — at least, not until he’d decided whether the food deserved a conversation. I watched him from across the table, trying not to stare too much, but it was hard. There was something almost peaceful about him like this — the sharpness in his face softening under the candlelight, his sleeves rolled up, his tie loosened, his shoulders finally not carrying the weight of the entire ...