The clink of silverware echoed softly through the grand dining room, each note sharp and crisp against the heavy silence that seemed to stretch longer than necessary. The rhythmic sound seemed to mirror the quiet tension that had settled over me, the unease that coiled tightly in my stomach.
I sat across from Rafael, doing my best to maintain the composed, almost aloof appearance I had worked so hard to perfect. But beneath the surface, my mind raced with everything that had just transpired—Julian’s reckless behavior, the detective’s cryptic warnings, and the growing storm within the De Luca family that seemed ready to swallow everything whole.
My fingers absently traced the rim of my wine glass, the coolness of the crystal offering some comfort, but not enough to ease the gnawing feel
