Lia’s pov

The scent of rain filled the air. Lia remained at the window, observing the approaching storm. The city beyond was dim and alive, the streets shimmering under the streetlights. Behind her, Dante navigated the apartment with familiar skill—inspecting the locks, rearranging the curtains, the silent habits of a man who had long prepared for dangers that were now gone. Or at the very least, that’s what they convinced themselves. She looked back, observing him. "You still have ...