Provenance

She built an empire of silk. Now she's building one of appetite.

Lorena Prokhorova has survived Moscow, London, Sydney, and a four-city American road trip that nearly killed her. Now she's in Milan, running a luxury textiles division out of a crumbling palazzo, preparing to launch a collection that will either cement her independence or prove she was always playing with her father's money.

Marco is twenty-two, sculpts with his hands, and looks at her body like it's a problem he wants to solve slowly. He doesn't care about her last name.

Dominique Archard is forty-five, owns vineyards in Bordeaux, and runs Le Cercle - an invitation-only society of women who pool capital to protect what other women build. Their nights on Sardinia are the most intimate Lorena has ever allowed herself, because for the first time, nobody is performing.

Sandro Ferretti deals in provenance. He knows the documented history of who owned what, and why it matters. He drives too fast, argues about everything, and refuses to let Lorena run the room. Their war ends against a bookshelf with five words: I am terrified. I am staying.

For readers who love dark romance with luxury settings, complicated heroines, and heat that doesn't apologize.