Adriana said it calmly enough, but the moment she turned and stepped back into her own room, exhaustion settled over her, body and mind both, as though she'd been scooped hollow.She lay down on the bed but couldn't fall asleep. She kept tossing and turning restlessly.Her mind kept circling back to Chris. This wasn't how his story was supposed to end.The moment he'd stood at the edge of that terrace, pushed to the brink and ready to jump, every last bit of her anger had drained away, leaving only grief behind. Whatever awful things he'd done, he was still the family who'd once been willing to throw away his own life for her.That tangled, aching pull, unable to hate him fully, unable to forgive him either, left her heart sour and raw.The bedroom door eased open, and Francesco walked in, settling down beside her without a hint of hesitation, the mattress dipping under his weight.His voice was lazy. "What are you thinking about?"Adriana pushed at him, though there was no real
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