𝐂𝐮𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐨

There are faces carved from ice and fire.

A mouth that speaks in silence. Eyes that remember things they shouldn't.

A smile that looks like a threat. Hands that once held a gun, now wear a ring.

In a land where shadows have names and blood has memory, a wedding is planned.

Orchestrated not by love, but by something far older.

Older than peace.

Older than hate.

One moves like a storm that forgot how to stop.

The other-like the silence that follows after the dead have spoken.

Green eyes like fractured glass.

Black eyes like obsidian soaked in grief.

Both beautiful. Both terrifying.

Somewhere, a lion sleeps beneath silk.

Somewhere else, a portrait bleeds behind glass.

There is chaos, barely caged.

It laughs too loud, breaks too fast, and burns everything it touches.

There is silence, colder than steel.

It doesn't flinch. It doesn't beg. But when it cuts, it cuts too deep.

They say the dead don't speak.

But in this house-

The past knocks.

The past watches.

The past waits.

And revenge?

Revenge wears perfume.

Revenge wears a suit.

Revenge doesn't always scream. Sometimes, it whispers.

There are those who burn cities down with nothing but their rage.

And those who bury empires with a single, quiet look.

Some stories begin with love.

This one begins with a funeral.

Cuore Nero-

Some hearts aren't meant to beat.

Some vows weren't meant to be made.

And some sins...don't stay buried.

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