The master bedroom of the Tuscan villa opened onto a private stone loggia overlooking the misty valley of Greve. Early morning sunlight filtered through the sheer linen curtains, casting soft golden ribbons across the terracotta tile floor. Marco stood at the stone balustrade, holding two porcelain cups of espresso, watching the morning mist rise from the vineyards below. The wooden door from the dressing room opened softly. Elena walked onto…
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