Chapter 16. Private Jet

Later That Evening.

Anna stepped into her apartment, dropped her bag by the door, and instinctively scanned the space. Empty.

No Lucien.

She sighed, disappointed. Maybe, she was growing too fond of him to expect he would always be sitting on her couch, waiting for her to come home.

A knock came, sharp and timely, just when the mood was shifting. She rushed to the door and pulled it open.

But it wasn’t him. It was a boutique delivery team. Her mouth fell open as men in sleek uniforms carried in box after box, bags with ribboned handles, suit-sized covers and velvet jewelry cases. Every item she had tried on the day before...and more.

By the time they finished setting it all down, her small apartment looked like a private showroom.

"Compliments of Mr. Vercetti," One of them said before bowing out.

She sighed to herself after they left. What was she thinking? When did Lucien ever knock on her door? He always let himself in, from