Illyana’s POV
The insistent chirping of sparrows outside my window did little to penetrate the fog of unease that clung to me like a shroud. Sleep had been a fleeting visitor, chased away by a relentless loop of unsettling images – Alessandro's shadowed gaze, the menacing figures at the club, a fleeting glimpse of a face I thought I recognized but couldn't quite place.
As I went through the motions of my morning routine – coffee, toast, a futile attempt to tame my unruly hair – Alessandro's parting words echoed in my mind: "Be careful, Illyana. Stay close to Sofia. Don't go anywhere alone.”
His warning, spoken with such urgency, such intensity, sent a shiver down my spine. I tried to dismiss it as an overreaction, a product of his own paranoia, but a nagging sense of unease lingered, a
