The rain started in the early hours of the morning, quiet and steady, like the sky was whispering secrets to the ground.
Aria didn’t hear it at first.
She was too lost in her dream—if it could be called that.
In it, she was back at her childhood home. Only, the lights never turned on. Every time she flipped the switch, nothing. Just shadows and memories. Her mother was calling her from the hallway, but the voice didn’t sound right. It was warped—deep, male, and dangerous.
She turned toward it, and suddenly Luciano stood where her mother should’ve been.
He didn’t speak. He just looked at her, as if asking her to choose: the light she remembered, or the darkness she’d found comfort in.
She woke with a start, her breath caught in her throat.
And she wasn’t alone.
Luciano sat in the ar
