Chapter 107: The Hour of Decisions

The night has enveloped the villa in a deceptive calm. Outside, only the rustling of the wind in the palm trees and the distant crash of waves dare to disturb the silence. Yet, inside, in our bedroom, an electric tension hangs in the air.

I lie on the bed, my eyelids heavy, my body exhausted by the day's events. But sleep does not come.

Because he isn't sleeping either.

Alessandro stands by the bay window, shirtless, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His muscles are tense under the dim light, his powerful back marked by shadows. He stares into the night with that silent intensity that always makes me feel like he's battling demons I cannot see.

He hasn't said a word since we returned from the warehouse.

Since he shot Salvatore without hesitation.

Since he proved, once again, that he never lets betrayal go unpunished.