When I open the door and see him, I'm not even surprised.
The driver from last night stands there as if he belongs in my hallway.
"For you, Signorina," he says, holding out a bouquet.
White lilies.
Of course.
I take them slowly, "You didn't have to come all the way here."
"It was requested."
He hands me a box of chocolates next. Then a smaller black box.
"Also, this too," he says.
I glance at him before opening it.
A phone. Brand new.
I blink, "That's… excessive."
"For easier communication."
I hesitate for a second, then say, "Actually, can I have his number? I was going to call and say thank you."
The driver nods once, "It is already saved in the phone."
I look down at the phone in my hand.
I clicked the screen on and went directly to the phone book.
One contact.
Luca.
No last name.
Just that.
I look back at him, "He assumed I'd call?"
"He prefers efficiency."
That almost makes me smile.
I study the contact name again before asking, "What's his full name?"
"Luca Bellini."
Bellini.
The name settles differently in my chest.
I know that name.
Old money. Influence. The kind of family that doesn't need introductions.
So that's who I let sleep in my apartment. It makes sense now with all the expensive suits and leather shoes.
I nod slowly, "Tell him I received everything."
"I will, Signorina."
He leaves without another word.
I close the door and lean against it for a second.
The phone is still in my hand.
I only asked for his number to be polite, but now it's already there.
Waiting.
And somehow that feels more intentional than if he had just written it down.