(Marco's POV)
White. Everything in the lobby was so fucking white, I thought I'd walked into heaven and had to squint to adjust to the brightness. The naked fluorescents bounced off the white marble walls and stabbed my eyes. "Dio mio, Isabella."
The woman had eccentric tastes, that much was clear. A shiny black marble wall caught my eye, and a few construction workers were mounting a sign onto it, which was backlit by a soft yellow light that almost glowed gold. The Alleyway sat in neat, stainless steel cursive in the middle of the wall, and a row of small spotlights shone down directly on it. I hummed in approval.
She had eccentric tastes, though her aesthetic was impeccable. It was looking like a hotel again.
