The rain had been falling for hours, soft and steady, washing the blood of the past from the DeLuca estate. The air inside was thick with the scent of wet earth and iron, an echo of all that had happened. Aria stood by the great hallway window, her hand resting gently on her stomach, her thoughts caught between the present and the ghosts that lingered in the marble floors.
It had been days since the council meeting. The alliances had steadied, the threats subdued, yet something still stirred in the air, an unease that even Luca couldn't fully hide. The house was quieter than usual. Fewer men in suits, fewer whispers in the corridors. But for Aria, the silence was heavier than the chaos had ever been.
She turned when she heard the soft click of a door opening behind her. Luca stepped in, his black shirt open at the throat, his expression carved from stone. "You're awake early."
"I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "The rain keeps me up."
