- ARIA
The divorce word was still ringing in the air, vibrating through my bones like a struck tuning fork.
I expected Luca to roar, to shift, to tear the porch off the house. Instead, he’d just turned into a block of sentient ice.
I ignored him, my hands shaking as I gathered the blankets Brandon had bought me. They were cheap, synthetic, and smelled like a discount warehouse, but they’d kept me alive during the storm.
I couldn't take them back to the mansion—Luca would probably have them exorcised—but I wasn't going to let them rot here.
"What are you doing with those?" Luca’s voice drifted from the doorway. He was leaning there, arms crossed, looking like he’d just stepped off a yacht instead of out of a psychological war zone.
"Giving them to Martha next door," I mu
