Dante’s pov

The morning sunlight poured in through the kitchen window, creating long golden lines across the wooden floor. The fragrance of freshly baked bread hung in the atmosphere, blending with the delicate scent of coffee that was still hot in Dante’s cup. Lia glanced away from the counter, observing Luca seated on the floor with his legs crossed, intensely concentrating on a puzzle laid out in front of him. His eyebrows knitted in contemplation, his tongue poking out a bit in ...