The rain in Rome didn’t fall; it sighed, coating the cobblestones in a slick, charcoal reflection of the streetlamps. Inside a dimly lit lounge near the Via Veneto, the air smelled of expensive tobacco and damp wool.
When the final chord vibrated into silence, Elias didn't look up for applause. He simply let the "Love Theme" linger in the air like a secret shared between friends.
At the back of the room, an upright piano stood against a velvet curtain. The crowd was a blur of sharp suits and tired eyes, but when the first notes of Nino Rota’s "Love Theme from La Strada" drifted through the room, the clinking of glasses softened.
It wasn't the orchestral version that people knew—the one that sounded like a grand tragedy. This was something different. It had the swing and soul of .
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