Sofia

The drive to the private airfield was a blur of silence and speed. Luca drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting heavily on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow, possessive circles against the fabric of my coat.

He didn't speak, and neither did I. The air between us was thick with a tension that felt like a pulled rubber band, ready to snap at the slightest touch. I watched the city recede in the rearview mirror all shrinking until it was nothing but grey smudges on the ...