Isabella
You try waltzing into your long-lost sister’s life with a dagger, a vague explanation, and a jungle full of magical nutcases, and see how well *you* handle the family reunion. I’m dodging cloaked chanters in this steamy temple ruin, my blade flashing, while Rosalia huddles behind a vine-choked pillar with her half-dead Alpha boyfriend, clutching that journal like it’s her firstborn.
Luca Moretti’s just stepped out of a portal, looking ready to carve Angelo into sushi, and the witch’s altar is glowing like a bad sci-fi prop. Andre Romano and Don Rizzo are smirking like they’ve already won, and I’m wondering if I should’ve stayed in hiding. Spoiler: I’m in way over my head, and Rosalia’s trust issues are making this harder than a Monday morning.
My scar itches, a reminder of why
