~Antonio
I sat at the dining table, sipping my tea. The faint aroma of mint rose from the cup, but it did little to calm my nerves. The events of the past few hours kept replaying in my head—Tiara in the hospital, unconscious, and Giovanni acting like none of it mattered. My grip on the cup tightened.
Just as I was about to take another sip, I heard footsteps. Giovanni strolled in, his usual air of arrogance trailing behind him. He tapped me on the back, a playful gesture that only fueled my irritation.
“Antonio,” he said, his tone casual. “Good morning.”
I ignored him, staring into my tea as though it held the answers to all my questions.
He chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting across from me. “What’s with the silent treatment?”
I still didn’t respond.
Giovanni tur
