Page 20 of Iron Roses

He stops just behind me, doesn’t speak at first. Then:

“The girl refuses to eat. The maid is fetching her new clothes to change into.”

My gaze lingers on the spot where Allegra’s car vanished. A muscle ticks in my jaw.

Lorenzo clears his throat, louder this time. “Is this a good idea? Your uncle will be furious.”

I turn my head slightly. Just enough to meet his eyes.

He reads the message. He always has.

It’s your job to stop him from finding out.

He exhales through his nose and nods once, like someone accepting a debt.

“Allegra says they’re searching high and low for the people Don Fontanesi traded information with. I have to get rid of the ledgers.”

Of course. The ledgers. My study houses three.

I tilt my chin toward the east wing—my study. Lorenzo follows the gesture instantly.

“I’ll stop by after dinner,” he says. His voice lowers. “Burn or bury?”

I don’t answer.

He knows what to do.

They all do. Every one of them who’s stayed. He and Allegra.

Allegra De Santis is many things. A woman who moves between families the way others change their coats. She worked under Il Silenzio Nero—a clandestine network buried deep beneath Syndicate politics. Hired by the old families to make sure alliances held. That secrets stayed hidden. That no one stepped out of line.

But she didn’t just serve them.

She served us.

She brokered the first exchange between the Rivettis and the Fontanesis in over forty years. The courier of risks no one else was willing to take.

It was Allegra who brought Giovanna to me.

Giovanna and I kept our love quiet. Not out of shame. Out of necessity. Our families had agreed to the union reluctantly—more out of exhaustion than support. But the others—the foreign families, the old bloodlines clinging to crumbling power—they would’ve seen it as a threat. An alliance like ours meant legacy. Meant unbreakable blood. Meant war.

So we hid it.

And when Giovanna was killed, I thought whatever loyalty Allegra held had died with her.

But she saved Elaria. Even when I didn’t ask her to.

I glance again at Lorenzo, still waiting by the doorway. I raise a finger, pointing toward the study. He nods, silent.

There’s a bulk in his shoulders now. Something turning over beneath his ribs.

“It’s only a matter of time before she finds out you were her sister’s man,” he says. His voice isn’t sharp, but it cuts.

I look at him.

My face doesn’t change. Not even a flicker.

But he sees the silence behind my eyes.

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