Cana jolted awake to the murmur of unfamiliar tongues, two male voices tangled in low exchange. One carried Carlo's rough-edged timbre she'd come to recognize—the other, a stranger's cadence that coiled like smoke through the shadows. Her eyelids fluttered open like moth wings in the dimness. The first thing that pierced the haze was the shadowed contour of a familiar man’s back—Carlo—looming like a barricade between her and the stranger he faced. Their voices tangled in low, urgent murmurs, syllables sharpening into the jagged edges of a language she couldn’t grasp. Russian, she realized—the words curling like smoke, all harsh consonants and secrets. Carlo shifted Cana’s limp form aside, his movements precise yet edged with urgency. With a raised palm—a silent, commanding halt—he locked eyes with Fero, whose defiance flickered like a dying ember. When Carlo turned, his wife met his gaze, swaying like a storm-bent sapling, her hair mussed and eyes still clouded with sleep’s residu
Last Updated : 2025-09-25 Read more