Dravina POV

“Drethos Mancini?”

The name broke from my lips in a trembling whisper, my voice cracking under the sheer weight of disbelief. “Zenovia’s father… my uncle?”

My stomach twisted violently, the walls of the room pressing in until I could barely breathe.

“That can’t be.”

The words spilled out thin and fragile, desperate scraps of denial. My heart slammed against my ribs, each beat sharp and merciless, a rhythm of confusion and horror that threatened to tear me ...