The soft Tuscan sun filtered through the lace curtains, warming Amelia’s bare shoulder as she lay curled beside Enzo. It was one of those rare mornings where everything felt suspended—like time had granted them a reprieve from the reality waiting outside their bedroom door. His arm was draped protectively around her, and for the first time in days, there was no storm behind his eyes when he looked at her.
But peace in their world had always been a fragile thing—more dream than reality. And dreams, no matter how vivid, were not made to last.
It started with a phone call.
Enzo had stepped out onto the balcony for a smoke, shirtless, with the curve of his back tense and his expression unreadable. Amelia was in the kitchen, humming softly as she stirred honey into their coffee. When she hea
