51. Don't call me Enzo

Roseline's POV

Just as I was about to see the photograph, Vincenzo shouted from behind, making me flinched at my place.

The photograph slipped from my finger as I was startled by the roar of Vincenzo. The sound of Vincenzo's voice, filled with frustration and rage, sent a chill down my spine.

My heart skipped a beat, and I spun around, my eyes widening in alarm at the sight before me.

Vincenzo stood there, his presence dominating the room, engulfed in overwhelming anger that radiated from every fiber of his being. He always keeps his face stoic, void of any emotions, but right now even the blind could sense the wrath that his body was emitting. It was as if the dam holding back his feelings had burst, unleashing a torrent of pent-up frustration.

His eyes, usually calm and serene, were now bloodshot and ablaze with fiery intensity. The veins on his forehead pulsed with the force of his rage, and his jaw clenched so tightly that it seemed as if it might break under the strain and h