Giovanni Moretti
I watched Alessia's eyes carefully, seeing the flicker of uncertainty there as Riley's words sank in. My lioness, usually so fierce and assured, suddenly looked vulnerable. A protective instinct rose within me, but before I could act, Alessia was already retreating.
"I'm just going to change my shoes," she murmured, her voice soft but brittle.
As she walked away, her shoulders were slightly hunched, as if trying to make herself smaller. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed unnaturally loud in the tense silence. Riley's gaze followed her, a mix of concern and discomfort evident in her furrowed brow.
I inhaled deeply, tasting the mingled aromas of Chef's cooking and the faint trace of Alessia's perfume lingering in the air. The urge to go after her, to wrap
