Page 91 of Impenitent Claim

Internally, I screamed at him to be quiet.

“You have no business with the vintages!” Cecilia reached up and boxed his ears. “Do you two not understand what people will think of us? Idiot boy, we have a reputation to uphold, an imageto present to the public. You bring a mug to the old lady? Don’t think I didn’t see that! You’re foolish, Alonzo. Foolish like your whore of a mother.”

Aunt struck nephew again and again.

He took the blows like a man.

“Clean this up, make yourselves presentable, and don’t let me catch you doing servant’s work, either of you!” the strega screamed.

She left, disappearing into the butler’s pantry with the housekeeper. The poor woman was on the receiving end of an earful.

“I hate her,” Alonzo muttered.

I let out a rough laugh. “That makes two of us.”

“Your knee?” Alonzo moved to my side, worry lacing his features.

I drew the injury closer to my body, shying away from his advance. I didn’t want his touch. It would be all wrong, too soft. No…I needed the hardness, the solid presence with the gentleness that only showed for me.

“I’m fine,” I promised. “Go back out there. Socialize with the wives.”

To his credit, my fiancé hesitated. For a moment. Indecision hung in the balance. But like the good boy he was, he obeyed, abandoning me. My heart sighed, but I forced myself to move. In the few moments of solitude, I set to work. Six vials of poison found their way into as many decanters of red wine. By the time the maids found me wiping up the broken glass, they were none the wiser as to my nefarious dealings.

Chapter 35 – Isabella

Ifinally pushed the door open and stepped into my room, a wave of relief crashing over me the moment I crossed the threshold. The soft, familiar scent of lavender puffed from the diffuser and wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. The criminal underworld, with its noise and weight, danger and treachery, stayed behind as I shut the door. I threw the lock for good measure. Not that it would stop any number of the soldiers if they wanted to harm me.

Knee throbbing, I sank onto my bed, the mattress giving way beneath me, and let out a long, shaky breath. It was just me now, in this seemingly safe space where I didn’t have to hold myself together anymore. The walls of my room, covered in knick-knacks and photos that held memories, seemed to hum with quiet understanding. The soft light from the lamp cast a warm glow over everything, gentle and unobtrusive, unlike the harsh brightness of the chandeliers that had burned and drained me. Here, I didn’t need to smile if I didn’t want to, didn’t have to explain or defend how I truly felt.

Trapped. Angry.Frustrated.

The pillows cradled my head as I lay back, closing my eyes and letting the familiar quietness of my room seep into my bones. It was as if every exhale released the tension that had coiled inside me throughout the day. Alone, I didn’t have to pretend to be anything or anyone. I could just...be. The weight that had pressed on my chest all day began to lift, bit by bit, and for the first time in hours, I felt like I could breathe freely again. This was home. This was peace.

And yet, it could vanish in a heartbeat.

Just because there was quietness here didn’t mean it was real. This was an illusion. There was no safe space for a mafia princess. It could all be ripped away by the greed that fueled the souls still congregating on the main floor.

I wanted nothing more than to burrow under the covers and let sleep be my escape from reality.

But my face was caked with goop. There was probably still glass in my knee, which needed to be cleaned better and wrapped tight. It would be long dresses tomorrow to hide the bandage, since drawing the strega’s ire would be nothing short of foolish. No need to remind her of the incident in the kitchen.

“Thank the saints and heavenly host that she didn’t walk in three minutes sooner,” I muttered.

Ilya was a risk taker. His close calls with danger threatened to drag me into irreparable trouble.

And yet the patter of my heartbeat seemed to sayit would be worth it.

Shaking my head, I shed my clothing and stepped into a warm, soothing shower. I scrubbed my body raw, indulging in the feeling of stripping away the cares of the world, letting them swirl down the drain.

Grabbing my first aid kit, I left the bathroom, body wrapped in a fluffy towel that soaked up the water from my dripping hair.I planned to wrap the length in the soft beige cloth and then air dry.

Instead, I clenched the thing tight and dropped the kit as my heart nearly exploded. “Mamma Mia!” I squeaked.

A dark chuckle trickled across the room.

I hated how my body warmed to the sound. Okay, hated was the wrong word. Annoyed. Irritated. Something like that.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, glancing at the door, which was still locked.

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