"We should go back," I say finally. "People will talk if we hide in the corner all night."
Bruno's lips twitch. Not quite a smile. But close.
"Let them talk."
I'm about to respond when movement catches my eye. Nico is walking toward us. His dark eyes sweep the room as he moves, cataloging everything. Everyone.
He stops a few feet away. Nods at Bruno.
"Everything alright?"
The question is directed at Bruno. Not me.
"Fine," Bruno says.
Nico's gaze flicks to me. Brief. Assessing. Then back to Bruno.
"Camilla was here."
"I noticed."
"She's gone now. Valentino escorted her out."
Bruno's jaw relaxes slightly. "Good."
I watch the exchange. The shorthand between them. Brothers who don't need full sentences to communicate.
Nico still hasn't acknowledged me directly. Not really. He looked at me, yes. But the way you look at furniture. Something in the room. Not someone.
I've felt it since the first night he came to my father's house. The way his eyes slide past me. The careful distance he maintains.
Nico doesn't like me.
I don't know why.
Maybe it's because I'm an outsider. A Romano. Someone who married into his family through debt and desperation rather than choice.
Maybe it's something else entirely.
Either way, the chill is unmistakable.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Antonella
Aweek passes.
Seven days of Bruno avoiding me like I carry some disease he might catch.
I notice it first at breakfast. The morning after the party, I walk into the dining room expecting... something. A nod. A grunt. Maybe even a continuation of the conversation we started by the windows.
Instead, Bruno keeps his eyes on his plate. Chews. Swallows. Never once looks up.
Kristen tries to fill the silence. Asks about my plans for the day. Whether I've explored the gardens. If I need anything.
I answer. Smile.
But I feel Bruno's absence like a cold draft.