He stood at the end of the street, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” his deep voice carried easily. “You didn’t.” Her tone was calm — steady. He stepped closer, the shadows clinging to his frame. “You’re not from here.” “No.” “You shouldn’t walk alone at night in Rome.” “I can handle myself.” He smirked slightly — a dangerous, amused curve of his lips. “I don’t doubt that.”