95
Rosa’s POV
The kitchen was quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of Irene’s utensils. I leaned against the counter, cradling my coffee, still trying to shake the haze of sleep. Seeing Allesio standing there, pouring himself a glass of orange juice like he had all the time in the world, was not part of my plan for a peaceful morning.
He looked too at ease, too perfect for this early hour. The way his hair fell slightly tousled, paired with his usual cocky smirk, made him look like he’d just stepped out of a dream—and not necessarily the good kind. I wasn’t ready for him.
I tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the comforting warmth of my mug. If I didn’t engage, maybe he’d just go away. No such luck.
“Good morning to you, too,” he said, his
