Annabelle wiped the sweat from her brow, her breath coming in measured puffs as she faced Angelo.

His sharp gaze assessed her stance with a precision that made her uneasy.

She adjusted her grip on the knife he had handed her moments ago, the handle cool and solid in her palm.

“Not bad,” Angelo said, concealed admiration in his tone.

.He motioned for her to reset her stance. “Again.”

Annabelle stepped forward, the blade slicing through the air, the movement smooth but still lacking the deadly grace Angelo seemed to execute effortlessly. He corrected her posture with a light touch to her elbow, his voice firm but patient.

“Your weight...