One night. That’s all they’d had together. After being torn apart by their parents, Ella faking her own death, and Rome being drugged and taken overseas against his will, they’d spent one night together in a hotel in Italy before having to face the realization that they were still on the run, that Rome’s father was certain to have his men after them, and there was nothing they could do to guarantee their safety except for run as fast as they could and try to get lost in the nameless, faceless world Rome had never been a part of.
The morning light was just beginning to seep between the curtains when Ella pulled herself from bed. Rome was in the shower. She could hear the water running. Since she’d taken a shower the night before, she decided to skip that and stared at the costume Bart had dropped off for her the night before. A curly red wig, some darker, larger sunglasses than the ones she’d been wearing, and a fake mole. Could she work with this?
