Giovanni Moretti
Her eyes snapped back to mine, wide with surprise and something else I couldn't quite name. For a long moment, we simply looked at each other, the air between us charged with unspoken possibilities.
Alessia's breath caught, and she lifted the wine glass to her lips, taking a long, slow sip. The rich burgundy liquid stained her lips, and I found myself transfixed by the sight. When she set the glass down, her hand trembled slightly.
I watched as Alessia's fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass, her knuckles turning white. She took a deep, shaky breath, her eyes focused on some distant point beyond my shoulder.
"The truth is," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "this wasn't the first time someone has targeted me because of my father's debts. Sig
