Night fell early.
Too early.
Clouds thickened above the compound like bruised smoke, swallowing the sky and dimming the moon. The air felt heavier by the hour, as if the atmosphere itself was waiting for something to happen.
Inside the suite, the tension was a living creature.
Aria sat propped against pillows, still weak, her breathing shallow but steady. Her hands rested protectively over her belly, fingers tracing soft circles over the place where her daughter moved gently beneath her skin.
Not frightened now.
Just aware.
Rosetta stayed at her side, whispering soft prayers, her rosary wrapped around her fingers so tightly they had turned pale. Dr. Henri adjusted the monitors again, his expression tight. Nico paced near the window, checking the perimeter through the cracks in the reinforced shutter.
And Luca stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, jaw clenched, staring at the man who had brought the storm to their doorstep.
