Dante’s pov

The morning was leisurely and relaxed—the type of morning Dante never expected to experience. He remained at the kitchen counter, mixing a cup of coffee, observing the scene outside their window. The city buzzed with energy, yet for once, he remained outside the turmoil. It was an unusual experience, figuring out how to exist without glancing back. Lia glided silently through the kitchen behind him, making breakfast while softly humming to herself. Luca was at the table, ...