The soft golden light of the setting sun bathed the grand De Luca mansion, casting long shadows over the marble floors as Aria entered. It was oddly quiet, no signs of Lyla’s usual energy or any family activity. Only the soft echo of music somewhere deeper in the house filled the silence.
Aria’s heels clicked softly against the marble as she made her way toward the living room, stopping in her tracks when she saw Damian by the fireplace. His silhouette was striking, the flickering flames illuminating his sharp profile, his expression unreadable as he swirled a glass of whiskey in his hand.
He turned as he sensed her presence, his gaze meeting hers with a calm, almost knowing look.
“You’re back,” he said in that flat tone of his, his words simple but carrying weight.
“I am,” Aria replie
