ANTONIO POVThe house had taken eleven months to build, and I had visited it more times than I could count, standing in empty rooms imagining furniture that hadn't arrived yet, walls that hadn't been painted, a life that hadn't started yet but that I could already feel taking shape in the bones of the place, the way you can sometimes feel a storm coming before the first cloud appears on the horizon.I'd started the project before Amy ever knew about it, back when I'd told myself it was simply a smart investment, another property to add to a growing portfolio, another asset to diversify the empire I'd spent my whole life clawing together out of nothing. It hadn't taken long for the lie to fall apart in my own head. I knew, even back then, lying awake at night with blueprints spread across my desk, exactly who I was building it for. Every choice I made — the wide windows that let in the morning light, the garden space out back, the extra room upstairs I told the architect I wasn't sure
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