Serafina
Morning light filtered weakly through my curtains, but there was no peace in it. My stomach was still in knots from last night—Dante’s threats, his mouth, the way he ripped my world apart with one sentence. Your brother. Wrong debts. Wrong men.
Amelia was perched on the edge of my bed, coffee in hand, already dressed like she’d been waiting for me to wake up. “We’re not sitting on this,” she said firmly. “We’re going to Adriano. Today.”
I rubbed my temples. “If he’s in as deep as Dante says—”
“Then we need to hear it from him.” Amelia’s voice sharpened. “Not from Dante. Not from anyone else. From Adriano.”
By the time we reached Adriano, my nerves were raw. I’d rehearsed a dozen openings in the car, but all of them crumbled the moment I saw my brother pacing the garden pa
