“We should get back.” He broke the gaze to reach for his scarf.
Aida took a breath to calm her racing heart before tipping back the rest of her beer.
As soon as they were out of the pub, Luciano took Aida’s hand, which lit the butterflies in her stomach alight. They walked down the street, past the nightclubs and cute restaurants, back to Soho Gardens. As they were passing the dark construction pit in the center of the park, Luciano stopped in the dimly lit doorway of a nearby custom house that had been transformed into a WeWork center. He pulled Aida close.
“I have been wanting to do this all night.” Luciano leaned in. His cologne was faint but familiar. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then to the bridge of her nose, the tip of her nose, and then he was kissing her, soft at first, testing. Aida clasped him to her, one hand slipping into his hair, pulling him closer. Their kiss was deep, and it sent shocks of pleasure throughout her.
A whistle and the whoops of some rowdy teenagers broke them apart. “Someone’s getting a shag tonight.”
“Get a room to bump yer uglies!”
Luciano waved them off with a grin and took Aida by the hand again. Laughing, they headed away from the park toward the holiday lights of Oxford Street.
“Much as I would like to bump your ugly,” he chuckled, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to be seen together at the hotel.”
Aida knew he was right. “I must admit my disappointment.” She squeezed his hand.
“I think I might need to take a vacation soon. Go back to Italy. See people like you.”
“I’d like that.” Although she hated the idea of waiting. “I have some ancient Greek gods to contend with, and I’d rather not do it alone.”
Luciano pulled her into an alley and kissed her again. “Youwon’t,” he said after he broke the kiss. “Even when we’re apart, we’ll figure this out together.”
Aida didn’t have a moment to respond before he led her back onto the street, where he immediately flagged a slow-passing cab. He gave the driver directions, handing him a crisp bill, then opened the door of the cab for her.
She sighed. “I wish I could walk with you.”
He gave her a broad smile. “This is safer. And I want you safe.”
She leaned up to kiss him once more, breaking off only when the cab driver cleared his throat loudly.
Aida hardly slept that night, her mind turning over and over the meeting with Sophrosyne. The conversation seemed unreal, but the feeling when Sophrosyne touched her hand was undeniable. It wasn’t just warmth or reassurance; there was something ancient, something alive pulsing through her skin. Aida had always been skeptical about higher powers, preferring reason and logic. Yet, how could she question the truth now, after feeling something far older than human history flood through her, grounding her to the earth? How could she doubt the existence of gods when one had touched her soul?
The following day on the two-and-a-half-hour flight back to Rome, she picked at her breakfast and barely touched her champagne. The thrill of luxury, which once felt like a dream for a girl from her humble beginnings, was now overshadowed by a growing sense of unease. Each sip of champagne, each bite of gourmet food weighed heavily on her conscience. She looked around the lavish cabin, her eyes tracing the opulent details she had once marveled at. The guilt gnawed at her—the environmental cost of private jets, the excessive indulgences of the wealthy while others struggled for basic necessities, the careless extravagance that seemed so far removed from the real world.
She knew she should savor the experience. How many more of these flights would she have? All this would be gone if shemoved forward with what Sophie was asking. Then she felt guilty for thinking such thoughts, holding such selfishness close to her. An internal battle raged within her—the love for this newfound luxury, a life she had never imagined, against the stark awareness of its impact and the superficiality that came with it. It wasn’t just the fear of losing the comforts but a deeper conflict about what enjoying these comforts said about her as a person. She used to be someone who cared about the 99 percent. And she hated to admit that she wasn’t ready to—and perhaps couldn’t yet—give it all up. But the fact that her lifestyle came at an environmental and moral cost began to nag persistently at the back of her mind.
Trista met Aida at the palazzo door upon her arrival. “You didn’t answer my calls or texts this morning. Why not?”
Aida pulled her phone out of the depths of her bag and saw all the missed notifications. She’d been tired from lack of sleep, and so distracted by her thoughts that she had spent most of the flight staring out the window or blankly gazing at the cooking show she had put on the plane’s viewing screen, her bag left on another seat on the empty plane. She wished she could have said she’d put it in flight mode, but the private jet had its own satellite service and there was no need.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t look at my phone.” There was no lie in this, but Aida knew that all the times she had lied about turning off the MODA phone so it wouldn’t listen to her conversations with Yumi or Felix had finally caught up to her.
“This is happening too often.” Trista frowned. “Why?”
Aida had not been prepared for this interrogation. “It’s not intentional, Trista,” she snapped. “I’m not trying to thwart you, if that’s what you think.”
Trista folded her arms across her chest. “A little defensive today, huh? Again, why?”
Aida wished that Sophie’s supposed calm spell worked on her in situations that didn’t involve the gods. Having Trista suspecther of anything was not wise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night and didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Why didn’t you sleep? That hotel is the pinnacle of luxury.”
“Indigestion,” Aida lied.
Trista unfolded her arms but her face didn’t soften. “Very well. You’re due at Palazzo Spada in an hour. I was texting and calling to remind you.”
“Ugh.” Aida had forgotten that she was capturing the details of the Galleria Spada museum and its Borromini’s Perspective that week. Normally, she didn’t work on the days she flew, but the museum was conducting some restorations later in the month that would have interrupted her research. She’d hoped to go right to Yumi and tell her everything about London, but that would have to wait.
