THIRTY-ONE
The scent of garlic, simmering tomatoes, and freshly baked bread filled the air as Camilla sat at the long dining table, watching Enzo and Francesco move about the kitchen with effortless ease. The large open space was warm, illuminated by golden light from an antique chandelier overhead. The rustic kitchen was a perfect blend of old-world charm and modern luxury—granite countertops, deep wooden cabinets, and a large stone hearth at the far end where a fire crackled softly. The kitchen island was covered with ingredients—fresh basil, grated parmesan, and a bottle of deep red wine Enzo had opened to let breathe. Camilla wasn't used to seeing men cook, especially not men like Enzo and Francesco. Enzo moved with surprising grace, stirring a rich, red sauce on the stove while Francesco knead
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