I S A B E L L A
I step outside, inhaling deeply as the cool air brushes against my skin. The tension inside the house was suffocating, and I needed a moment to clear my head. I glance over at Caterina and Alessio, who are standing a few feet away, speaking in hushed tones. Giulio leans casually against one of the cars parked in the driveway, his usual smirk in place.
“Well, that was tense,” I mutter, rubbing my arms.
Giulio raises an eyebrow. “That bad?”
I sigh. “My father doesn’t trust Angelo.”
Giulio chuckles, shaking his head. “No surprise there. Old grudges don’t die easily.”
Caterina scoffs. “Understatement of the year.”
She crosses her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. There’s a stiffness in her posture, a barely concealed tension that I can’t quite place.
