The days that followed passed in deceptive calm.
The mansion overlooking the sea had become their haven or so it seemed.
The morning sun spilled softly through the tall windows, catching in the dust motes that drifted lazily through the quiet air.
To anyone watching from the outside, it was almost peaceful too peaceful.
Inside, Damian moved with deliberate control. Every step, every command he gave was masked with the ease of routine.
But Luca, who had known him longest, could see the slight tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered toward the horizon whenever the wind shifted.
He was waiting for something.
Or someone.
Down in the main hall, Isabella sat with Sophia, going over a stack of handwritten notes she'd started keeping sketches, thoughts, and half-written fragments of their past weeks together.
She was trying to understand it all, to make sense of the chaos that had become their lives.
Sophia watched her carefully.
