Saturday, 7 p.m.

Julian arrived to pick up Francesca, leaning casually against the car, a cigarette between his fingers as he waited for her to come downstairs.

Two cigarettes passed before Francesca finally appeared.

It was a private banquet, so Francesca’s attire was understated—a dress from Serelinne Atelier that was elegant but not overly formal, paired with jewelry that was tastefully discreet. Julian, however, seemed more than satisfied. ...