Chapter 19

Grace swirled the amber liquid in her glass. The ice clinked softly against the sides before she took a slow sip of her cognac, savoring the burn as it slid down her throat.

With a sigh, she set the glass down on the table beside her and turned her gaze toward the figure seated on the floor. Marco, with his usual relaxed posture, leaned against the couch, one knee up, his arms lazily draped over it. His dark eyes flickered toward her, waiting.

“How much do you know about my cousin?” Grace asked, her voice smooth but carrying an edge of amusement.

Marco exhaled through his nose, tilting his head as if considering the question. “I know that he’s unpredictable,” he said, his tone as flat as ever. “And by the sound of his voice, he’s like an unstable balloon.”

Grace barked out a laugh, nearly spilling her drink. “A fucking balloon? That’s how you describe him?”

Marco merely shrugged. “One wrong move and—pop.”

Grace shook her head, still chuckling. “Se