Days passed.
Then weeks.
Alessio remained in the house, still saying nothing, his silence becoming a defining characteristic that the woman seemed to find more amusing than frustrating.
She would talk to him anyway, her voice filling spaces he refused to occupy with words, sharing observations and instructions without expecting responses.
"You hold your fork like it's a weapon. That won't do. Like this – see? Elegance matters as much as efficiency."
"Your posture gives away your background. Stand straighter… People judge you in the first three seconds. Control what they see."
"Respect isn't demanded, it's earned. But appearance creates the foundation. Dress like you deserve to be taken seriously, and people will treat you that way."
Lessons wrapped in casual conversation, delivered while she ate breakfast or reviewed paperwork, never pressuring him to engage but making sure he heard.
