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2025-09-27 08:00:17CATALINA'S PERSPECTIVE
A Few Days Later.I stood before the mirror, the dim light catching every line, every curve. My hands moved slow, deliberate, over my skin, neck, shoulders, arms, stomach, searching for any trace Nico might have left. Bruises, marks, shadows of his desperation. Nothing. Clean. As if it never happened.“Good,” I whispered to my reflection, lips curving. I had no interest in carrying ghosts when Dante’s eyes would be the only ones I allowed to linger.By morning, I kissed Carlos’ cheek in farewell, my brother still buried in ledgers and newfound discipline, and left him to his mess. Nico had already gone days ago, disappearing into his own web, tasked with one order: keep Dante busy, far from Via Sant’Angelo.Nikolai shadowed me as always, the silent blade at my back. Together we returned to Libreria Fioretta.And there it was, whole again.The windows gleamed, the shelves stood proud, the faint scent of
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