**Lucia’s POV**

The living room felt like a graveyard, and we were all just waiting for someone to start digging the graves.

I stood paralyzed in the corner, my back pressed against the cold stone of the fireplace. The air was thick and heavy, reeking of gunpowder from the man Stefano had just executed and of the sharp, bitter scent of the glass of Scotch on the table. My heart pounded so hard it blurred my vision and made my head spin as I realized this wasn't just a fight anymore. It wasn't ...