There was nothing.
Nothing.
But the detector—
It was screaming.
Ciro glanced over his shoulder, looking directly at Vincenzo now.
“Should I retrieve it?”
The words landed like a spark in dry grass.
Vincenzo’s expression darkened immediately—something dangerous igniting behind his eyes.
“And why the fuck would I let you put your hands inside my wife’s dress?” he snapped, his voice dropping into something lethal, something that made the air feel heavier. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
His gaze cut to Ciro like a blade.
“Let. Go. Of. Her.”
Each word came out slow.
Deadly.
Ciro released me instantly.
Stepping back.
Both hands raised in quiet surrender.
“Apologies, boss.”
But the damage was done.
Vincenzo dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply, before his gaze snapped back to me.
Frost. Fire.
Something dangerously close to betrayal.
“Take it out,” he said, voice cold. “Whatever’s between your breasts.”
A pause.
“Do it yourself.”
The command left no room for argument.
My chest tightened.
I wanted to scream.
To tell him there was nothing.
That this was insane.
That I hadn’t stolen anything.
