Alexander’s POV
The silence in the penthouse was usually my sanctuary, but tonight it felt like a bomb.
I stood in the middle of the living room in the guest wing, checking my watch. 7:45 PM. Dinner was in fifteen minutes and the catering staff had already set the table and vanished, leaving behind the scent of rosemary and roasted lamb that was currently doing nothing to settle the uneasiness rolling in my gut.
Running a hand through my hair, I paced in front of the window, watching as the snow fell harder now, blanketing the city in white, muting the noise in my head.
The Curse.
It was whispering to me. I could feel it in the marrow of my bones, a dark, heavy sludge moving through my veins. The DeLuca Curse wasn’t magic. It was biology. It was the way our souls were wired - to obse
