Chapter 69

• The imposing living room of Don Salieri's mansion was a testament to the opulence and tradition that permeated the environment. Sumptuous furniture and works of art adorned the space as I stood nervously next to Dante. The atmosphere, charged with expectation, seemed to constrict my lungs, and involuntarily, I began to bite my lips as a gesture of anxiety.
• Dante, beside me, glanced at me with a mix of impatience and disdain. “Stop it, Catarina,” he murmured, his voice a firm whisper.
• I looked at him, confused, and asked, “Stop what?”