Chapter 63: The Shroud Lifted

His words resonated within me like a promise, but also like a threat. Alessandro had this peculiar gift: turning simple phrases into shards of glass that seemed capable of piercing straight into my soul. A strange warmth radiated from his hand resting on my shoulder. I could feel every detail—the firmness of his fingers, their precise weight—but all of it felt distant, almost unreal.

It was as though my mind were struggling in a dense fog, his words fighting to cut through it. And yet, I couldn't deny the effect he had on me. There was a disquieting familiarity in his voice, a note that stirred something deeply buried. But was it affection? Fear? Anger? I couldn't tell. Everything felt tangled in my head, as though the boundaries between my feelings for him were dissolving under the weight of what I had forgotten.