Dante’s POV
Lucia hesitated in the doorway. I saw the way her fingers curled slightly, the way her shoulders stiffened, like a thief caught in the act.
She met my gaze, her expression carefully neutral. “Fine.”
“Fine,” I echoed, rolling the word over my tongue like a sip of aged whiskey. It tasted like a lie. “Is that all?”
She remained standing, hands at her sides, her nails digging slightly into her palms. Defiant, but nervous. A contradiction that only made her more intriguing.
“What do you mean?”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “I was just wondering,” I murmured, tilting my head slightly. “If you had anything to say that I don’t already know.”
Her lips parted for a second before she caught herself. Then, she lifted her chin, forcing an air of nonchalance. “There
