**Lucia’s POV**

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, its sound echoing through every corner of the silent house. It was barely seven in the evening, but the shadows in the living room were already long and dark. They stretched across the floor like reaching fingers, trying to pull the light from the room.

Raffaele sat in his armchair, looking like a king on a throne, holding a glass of amber scotch, swirling it slowly. He looked completely relaxed, but I couldn't stop moving; my nerves were ...