Page 105 of Inside the Sun

I rush to the window. Down below, on the flat lawn of the inner garden, a whole crew of people is setting up for the event. Tables, chairs, long couches for lounging. A few workers are even building some sort of stage, probably for performers or dancing.

I watch it all, my throat dry. Am I really supposed to play for a bunch of underworld big shots? The idea doesn’t exactly thrill me. I’ve never been especially shy, but the thought of performing for Anzo’s friends in that ridiculous costume makes my stomach twist with nerves.

Then the loud knock on the door comes once more. This time Matteo walks in. He hasn’t been announcing breakfast for the last few days; I’ve been going there on my own, so that’s new.

"Breakfast is earlier today!" he snaps, shooting me a hateful glare. Right. Massimo and Franco were his buddies, and now… they’re dead. He probably blames me, and I—well, I blame them!

We head downstairs in silence. If looks could kill, I’d drop dead before we reach the dining room.

To my surprise, only Eliano and Summer are sitting at the table. None of the other brothers. No cousin Ennio, no Anzo either. Too busy getting ready for the banquet?

I glance at Eliano. He meets my eyes for half a second, tense and jumpy, his jaw clenched tight. He always looks like a ball of nerves, like something’s gnawing at him from the inside.

Should I say something? Try to connect? Luca and Mauro took my side, after all. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to win over one more brother. Or… would that just come off as scheming, making allies?

"What time does the banquet start?" I ask, just to test the waters.

Eliano lifts his curly head, dark locks falling into his cheeks. Once again, I’m struck by how pretty he is. Not handsome—pretty. He’s got lashes as long as mine, if not longer! He looks surprised I’m even speaking to him.

"Think it’s at five," he mumbles.

"Is everyone dressing up? Is it, like, a costume party?"

He shrugs. "No idea. I’m not invited."

I hesitate, unsure whether to keep going.

"Are you in school?"

That makes him tense up even more. His fists clench, and he throws me a sharp glare.

"Why do you care?"

I shrug. "I dunno. You look like you’re around college age," I mutter, instantly regretting how dumb that sounds.

"I study law. Online. Junior."

"I was supposed to start music school this year. Guess that’s not happening. Your uncle’ll probably kill me first."

Eliano's jaw clenches again, the constant tension surely leading to muscle soreness from lactic acid buildup. His lips turn pale. He hunches his shoulders.

"If you think I can help you, think again," he says, voice tight. "I don’t have any say in what my uncle does. He calls all the shots. And if you’re smart, you’ll behave. He seems stable, but you have no idea what he’s capable of. Trust me, don’t push his limits. That’s my advice if you want to survive."

I shrug and sip my pomegranate juice.

"Won’t help. There’s no way to survive here. Doesn’t matter how polite I am. Sooner or later Anzo’s gonna get bored of me and kill me. And if I try to run, he’ll go after my family. I’m screwed either way."

Summer watches me the whole time, quiet, guarded, but doesn’t say anything. He eats his salad and plays with a handkerchief, mindlessly rolling it over his thumb.

"We’re all screwed," Eliano snaps, lowering his head and stuffing big bites of food into his mouth like he wants this conversation over now.

So, was I right earlier? Is he a prisoner here too?

I study him for a moment. His hands are shaking slightly. I’m not exaggerating—he’s seriously a bundle of nerves. That’s when I notice the bruises on his wrist, peeking out from under his black long sleeve.

"What happened to your wrist?" I ask, keeping my tone casual, like I’m just asking the time.

He rolls his eyes. "What’s with the questions?"

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