ADRIANA'S POV
Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to blink, refused to look away. My heart was hammering so loudly that it drowned out the chaos behind me. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be.
"…Dad?" My voice barely came out, just a whisper laced with disbelief.
The man standing before me—Lord Rossi—looked like my father, but at the same time, he didn't. He was older, harsher, his eyes devoid of the warmth I once knew. There was nothing soft in his expression, nothing familiar except the face itself.
But that was impossible.
I had spent years—half my life—searching for this man. Crying over him. Begging for him. And now… now he was here?
I took a shaky step forward, my trembling fingers lifting as if to touch his face, to prove he was real. "Dad, it's me," I choked out. "It's—"
Before I could finish, his hand shot out, gripping my wrist so tightly that pain flared up my arm. My breath hitched.
