The air was heavier than usual.
When we stepped through the doors of the villa, a strange sensation took hold of me. As if I had left a part of myself in that warehouse, next to Lorenzo's lifeless body.
The sound of our footsteps echoes on the marble floor. Alessandro walks ahead of me, straight, unyielding, but I can sense the tension in the stiffness of his shoulders. His silence has never been louder.
He's used to death.
Me… I thought I could never handle it.
But tonight, watching Lorenzo's blood stain the floor, hearing his last breath escape his throat, I felt nothing.
No fear. No remorse.
Just a cold, icy pit in my stomach.
Alessandro suddenly stops in the hallway and turns to me. His dark gaze searches for something in mine—a glimmer of humanity, a sign that I'm still the person I was before.
I straighten under his gaze.
"Do you regret it?" he finally asks.
My throat tightens.
Regret?