Page 69 of Broken Honor

I press my hand to my chest, the place where fear curls tight.

“Please watch over Nonna, she must be worried sick. And Bea… she’s probably trying not to cry because she knows Nonna needs her strong. Keep them safe, Mother. Let them sleep tonight. Let them eat. Let them laugh, even if just once. Let them know I’m still breathing, that I haven’t forgotten them. Guard their hearts, protect their days. I’ll come home to them. I will. Ti prego…”

There’s a soft knock on the door, and the older maid from yesterday steps in without a word. Her scarf is tied neater today. She leads me to the bath again.

My feet brush against the cold tiles, and I ease myself into the tub. Warm water soothes the soreness in my muscles, the lavender scent again curling in the air like memory. I close my eyes and let my fingers trace soft patterns over the water's surface.

When I finish, I step out quietly, wrapping the towel around my body. The maid brings out the cream again, but I offer her a gentle smile and take it from her hands.

“Thank you. I can do it.”

She gives the smallest nod before stepping aside. She waits, watching. When I’m done, she hands me a clean shirt and a pair of jeans.

Jeans.

I hold them for a moment, blinking. The fabric is thicker than anything I’ve worn.

“Could I… have a dress next time?” I ask quietly, folding the jeans against me.

She doesn’t respond. A moment later, she returns with a tray.

Breakfast. Warm cornetti, a small bowl of fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of something that smells sweet. I sit down cross-legged on the bed and begin to eat. My hands tremble slightly, but the food tastes like comfort and I cling to it.

As I chew, I glance at the door to the inner chamber.

Did he come back last night?

I didn’t hear him. Maybe he stayed away. Maybe he slept somewhere else. I don’t know what to think. My fingers twitch against the bedsheets, and I glance toward the crack under the door—but I don’t move. I don’t want to know.

A sudden creak of the door jerks me upright.

Two men walk in. I freeze, half-chewed piece of bread still in my mouth.

One of them I recognize instantly—the man I bumped into during my escape, the one who didn’t yell. He has a kind smile, soft eyes. The other… I know his face from last night, too. His glare is sharp, his lip curled with irritation. I feel it like ice sliding down my spine.

They both look at me like I don’t belong.

“Hi,” the kind one says, voice casual but warm. “You’re Lunetta, right?”

I swallow quickly and wipe the corner of my mouth. “Y-yes.”

He gives me a small smile. “I’m Enzo. Vieri’s younger brother. That’s Riccardo.” He gestures to the other man.

The sharp-eyed brother doesn’t move. He just keeps glaring at me like I’ve done something wrong by existing.

“Vieri’s busy today,” Enzo continues, tone lighter. “I’m going to drive you to get fitted for your dress. For the dinner.”

The word dinner makes my stomach twist.

I nod slowly, unsure how else to respond.

“You can finish eating,” Enzo adds kindly. “We’re in no hurry—”

“Are you fucking Vieri?” Riccardo’s voice slices through the room.

I choke. The tea goes down the wrong way, and I scramble to grab the glass of water, coughing violently.

Enzo turns sharply to him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he snaps at his brother.

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