Page 89 of Of Oaths and Secrets

But something in me wants to fix this, to bridge the gap between them that years of silence and tension have caused.“Why don’t you stay?” I say, gesturing warmly. “There’s always too much food.”

Leo hesitates, his gaze darting between me and Rafaele. “I don’t want to bother.”

“You never bother.” I reach out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “You’re family.”

His eyes soften, and for the first time, I see something raw and vulnerable there, replacing his mocking cockiness. It makes my throat tighten because I suddenly understand that Rafaele isn’t the only one here carrying scars. Leo has his own share of trauma, different but no less painful, lingering quietly under his surface.

“Stay for dinner, Leo,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “We want you here.”

He hesitates, his gaze moving back to Rafaele, searching for permission, understanding, or maybe just acceptance. Finally, Rafaele nods, his expression softening just a bit. “Stay.”

Leo’s shoulders relax, and I see a hint of a smile—the kind that’s guarded but real. It’s a beginning, fragile yet genuine, and for the first time, I see the possibility of family here, of something more than just blood ties but connection, healing, and trust.

As we make our way to the dining room, Rafaele slips his arm around me, drawing me close to kiss my temple. “You’re too kind, amore.”

And as we settle into dinner together, the sense of family—of something solid, something worth fighting for—fills the space between us, a quiet strength in the face of all we’ve endured and all we’re still learning to overcome.

As we gather around the table, there’s a comfortable sort of quiet that settles over us, one that feels rare but welcome. I catch Leo glancing around the dining room, a bit out of his element,but there’s a softness to his gaze that hints he’s more at ease than he lets on.

“So, Leo,” I say, passing the breadbasket his way. “How’s everything at the club? Keeping you busy?”

He tenses slightly, and I almost regret asking, but he surprises me with a nod. “Yeah… it’s good. I like the responsibility. Keeps me… grounded.” He hesitates, then looks at me more directly. “Are you really okay?”

I smile, trying to keep things light. “Just a scare, really. I might have been a little dramatic about it.” I cast Rafaele a playful look, hoping to ease any leftover tension.

Rafaele, ever serious, raises an eyebrow. “Dramatic?” he says dryly. “I’d call it appropriately concerned.”

Leo chuckles, glancing between us with amusement. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, hasn’t she?”

Without missing a beat, Rafaele takes my hand, warmth radiating from his touch. “Absolutely,” he says, his voice full of quiet conviction. “And I don’t mind one bit.”

“Neither do I,” Paolo chimes in with a grin. “It’s a source of endless mockery.”

Rafaele glares, but there’s a glint of humor in his eyes. I lean into him, feeling his strength and support. “Laugh while you can, both of you. One day, you’ll each find someone who pulls you just as deeply. Then it’ll be our turn to laugh.”

Leo shifts slightly, his jaw tightening in a way that’s barely noticeable. But Rafaele catches it, his eyes flicking briefly to his brother, his expression softening before he lets the moment pass. After a beat, Leo clears his throat, breaking the silence with a rueful smile.

“You’re probably right,” he mutters. “But until that day, let me just enjoy my freedom while I can.”

Paolo laughs, raising his glass. “And then, on with the double wedding!”

The table erupts with laughter, the warm sounds filling the room and making everything feel just as it should—easy, welcoming, and full of a sense of family I hadn’t expected to find here. As dinner winds down, I watch Paolo and Leo leave with a certain gratitude. I love these evenings with Rafaele—just the two of us in the comfort of our quiet home—but something is nagging at me tonight.

Rafaele takes my hand, leading me toward the library with Fate trailing faithfully behind us. As we step inside, he closes the door softly, and I turn to him, the thought pressing on me too heavily to ignore.

“Your brother’s hiding something,” I say, keeping my voice low.

He nods, not a hint of surprise in his expression. “I know.”

“And he looked… scared. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”

Rafaele’s jaw tightens, his gaze drifting as if considering something unseen. “I know.”

I step closer, my voice steady and determined. “Then we need to help him.”

He turns back to me, a faint smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “We?”

“Yes, we,” I say, holding his gaze. “We’re a team, aren’t we?”

---