, exactly two months before the wedding, and the air was filled with that sweet, metallic scent that often accompanied summer days in the old winery mansion. I was sitting on the cou

threw me a fleeting glance, almost as if seeking approval, though she always knew that in this game, I held the card

she asked, lowering the magazine with

head, pretending th

played with the cards you're dealt,

h that hadn't yet been tainted by

on of a tailor's suit, flowers that wilted before they had a chance to unfold their full fragrance, a

tside, two sisters excited about a wedding that promised to change our lives; on

lifting her eyes from the magazine, but

erings with that sharp smile and the gaze that seemed to pierce you and strip you of your

choosing my words carefully. "He's not easy to approach, and th

a mixture of admiration and some

be on our side when

rets were common currency. But the truth was, I needed to hear it, and I

ied, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "The rest

, reached us like an invisible thread that tied the entire family to a unique, controlled rhythm. Marco had that way of

were there, but not entirely present. I couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and repressed desire ever

ds that said more than they left unsaid. Sometimes, in those heavy silences, I wondered what the

distant sound of Marco's voice and the mur

don't?" she asked that night as we we

of irony. "But if he does, he's not sh

ed, biting h

his family holds more sec

the food or the suffocating heat of the Italian summer, but that unsettling mix

ief, heated argument I witnessed between Marco and Nicolo, voices raised in the dim light, words los

n't understand the full extent, s

o understand. Martina, with her large eyes and that mix of innocence and determination, seemed both an anchor and a storm at the same time. Sitting

rs. "Last night I heard Marco and Nicolo argue. I couldn't understand much,

. The information Martina brought was a key that opened the door to a dark and forbidden room. I couldn't let tha

hat?" I asked, pretending

th the expression of someone who

almost like he wanted to silence him. And Marco, instead of f

covered my back. I took a deep breath, t

ded empty. "What matters is that we're here and we kno

es. At that moment, I felt the complicity between us solidi

hed over the house, and I knew it wouldn'