120
Rosa’s POV
The wine was warm in my glass, the edges of the city lights blurring as the night deepened. It had been one of those rare evenings when everything seemed to align—quiet laughter over dinner in my balcony, a shared look that lingered too long, and the comfortable rhythm that only comes when someone feels like less of a stranger and more of a constant.
Allesio leaned back in his chair, his eyes on me, his gaze heavy with something I couldn’t quite name. He had this way of looking at me, like I was a puzzle he couldn’t wait to solve. Tonight, though, I didn’t mind being seen. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was just him, but my usual guard felt lighter.
“Your family fascinates me,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, somethi
