The man nodded once and immediately stepped away, already reaching for his phone. Luca turned back.
Fifteen minutes? He could be there in ten. Less, if he pushed. His fingers brushed against his phone again, the urge to call her clawing at him, but he stopped himself.
If she was truly in trouble, a call could make things worse. "Luca!" Bianca's voice followed him.
"The car is waiting," she said, slightly breathless, still trying to hold onto the evening's script. "We have to leave."
"Head on over there," he said flatly. "I'll meet you there." Bianca stopped in front of him, her brows drawing together, irritation flashing across her face.
"Luca," she said, more firmly now, "you cannot just leave me behind." His head turned sharply toward her, eyes dark.
"Fucking do as I say." He was already turning away again, already moving, already done with this conversation, this night, this entire charade.
Don Genovese approached. "Everything alright here?" Luca turned to him.
