Lia’s pov

The night felt suffocating, the weight of it pressing against my chest like a steel vice. Luca was out there. Somewhere. And I had never felt so powerless. Dante was pacing, the wreckage of our home scattered around him like an omen. His breath was slow, measured—but I could see it. The unraveling. His control was slipping, and if we didn’t act now, he would tear the world apart with his bare hands. “We don’t have time for this,” I snapped, forcing my voice to stay ...