The rain didn’t stop that night.
It came down in steady sheets, soft and constant, like the sky itself had decided to grieve. The windows of the De Luca estate blurred with it, casting everything inside in a watery glow.
Aria sat by the fireplace in the study, curled in one of the armchairs she wasn’t sure she was allowed to use. Her knees were pulled to her chest, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders, as if the soft wool could shield her from the weight she carried.
She hadn’t seen Luciano since the night in the hall—the night he told her things no one should’ve admitted. The way he held her. The way he said mine like a threat dressed in velvet.
And still… she hadn’t slept.
Not properly.
Every time she closed her eyes, it was there again. His breath at her ear. His touch o
