SIXTY-SEVEN.

The sleek, black SUV glides to a graceful halt just outside the magnificent grand hotel.

Its tyres whispering against the pavement, the only sound breaking the stillness of the evening.

The vehicle exudes an air of power and sophistication, its polished exterior gleaming under the glow of the streetlights.

As the engine purrs to a stop, the dazzling flashes of a dozen cameras flicker.

Alessandro shifts to look at me, “are you ready, Farfalla?” He asks me with a look of uncertainty crossing his handsome face.

Anxiety slowly starts to lick my feverish skin with the niggling sensation of anticipation of what the night is to bring.

I look at Savannah, who currently has her face pressed against the tinted window, gazing outside.

I nod my head, “yes,” I whisper. “Let's get the show on the road.” I smile nervously as my hands start to sweat.

Alessandro nods his head with a scowl on his monotonous face. “ If the night gets too much for you and you want to leave, let me know and