The night was restless. Palermo breathed under a blanket of uneasy silence, the city lights glimmering across the water like scattered diamonds. From the villa’s highest balcony, Elena stood in her silk robe, the cool Mediterranean breeze brushing against her skin.

The war they had fought felt endless, but here she stood—alive, victorious, crowned by fire and blood. And yet, she knew it wasn’t truly over. Peace, in their world, was nothing but the space between storms.

Behind her, the glass doors slid open. She didn’t turn when she felt the familiar weight of his presence.

Enzo.

His arms slipped around her waist, pulling her against the solid strength of...