"I have to live under someone else's face and identity now," Eleanor murmured, her voice soft and detached, eyes lowered to the polished floor as if trying to distance herself from her truth.
Luciano's brows drew together sharply. "Someone else's identity?" he echoed, confusion flickering across his face. "So that’s why you’re disguised?"
She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
"There are some... messes that need cleaning up," she said, lifting her gaze to meet his. Her light eyes held a calm resilience, but there was a flicker of something deeper—an old wound still healing. "I need your help to investigate."
"Boss, since when do you stand on ceremony with me?" Luciano replied with a chuckle, his usual seriousness melting into a familiar warmth. "Don’t worry about it—I’ll handle everything for you."
But then his voice wavered.
"...But—"
"But what?" Eleanor pressed gently, sensing his hesitation.
Luciano's smile faded.