9

Veronica

By the time we landed in Florence, we'd been traveling for over thirteen hours. The drive to the Armando property took another hour and fifteen minutes. Located outside of Florence near a town called San Gimignano, the house—or rather estate—came into view only a few minutes after we'd driven off the country road and through a large entrance, where tall iron gates stood open and stone walls separated the property from the road.

We sat in the back of a dark sedan with tinted windows. As the driver took us through, I looked back at the dragons on top of the two pillars. Each was posed differently, one perched on its haunches, the other ready to take flight with its wings wide. Both had eyes that seemed to follow me.

I shuddered and glanced at Stefan, who had a strange look on his face as he surveyed the land, the swelling hills, the green grass, the vast seeming acres of land.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you." He smiled.

That was maybe the first authentic smile I'd seen from him.