The storm was already there, creeping in, long before anyone saw clouds.
Inside the Valente estate, even the walls seemed to tighten with tension. The guards stiffened up, eyes darting every time a shadow shifted where it shouldn’t. Voices dropped to whispers, curling through the halls. Everyone could feel it. Something ugly was coming. It reeked of betrayal.
Alessia felt it, too. Deep, in places she couldn’t name.
She didn't bother with sleep.
Didn’t bother pretending.
She hunted instead.
Down in the old wine cellar—though honestly, nobody could call it that anymore—stone walls muted every sound. Chains swung lazy from the rafters. The floor sloped toward a single rusty drain.
Alessia stood right in the center, hair yanked back tight, her face frozen somewhere between bitter cold a
