I was already in their arms when I finally let go of the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Dante’s arms were solid around my shoulders, his hand pressing gently against the back of my head like he was holding together the pieces of me that had cracked. Matteo stood to my left, one large hand resting on my trembling back, his touch steady and grounding. Enzo hovered to the right, a few inches back, but I could feel his presence like a wall of calm–like if anyone dared approach, he’d crush them with just a look.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. The lump in my throat felt permanent.
Their expensive cologne filled my nose–clean, crisp, and grounding. Even that comforted me. Dante’s chest rose and fell slowly beneath my cheek, and for once, I didn’t pull away from the warmth. I let it sink into me. I let myself be held.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Dante’s chest tightened under me. “Don’t say that.”
Matteo’s voice was low, dangerous. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Aria.”
Enzo finally moved forward, slipping something soft into my hand–a tissue, folded neatly. “You okay to go back?”
No. But I nodded anyway.
Dante stepped back first, and I missed his warmth instantly. He scanned my face like he was memorizing every tear mark, every twitch of pain I tried to hide. Then he nodded once, sharp and silent. Matteo gave my hand one final squeeze, and Enzo fell into step beside me.
I walked between them like I was under a roof that no storm could pierce.
As we entered the dining area, the sounds returned: clinking silverware, light piano music, quiet conversations. But when we reached our table, everything dimmed again.
And then-
“Oh, you’re back already?” My mother’s voice cut through the air like a knife dipped in honey. “Was that little performance really necessary, or just another one of your attention–seeking stunts?”
My spine locked up.
Before I could open my mouth, Cassandra leaned forward across the table with a sickening smile. “She’s always been like this. Ever since we were kids. She pretends to be fragile so everyone feels sorry for her.”
My hands curled into fists at my sides, my vision blurring–not from tears this time, but heat. Shame. Fury. And yet… I d…
need to speak.
Because they did.
Dante was the first to turn.
His expression was calm, too calm. But his eyes–his eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them. Cold. Deadly. “I’d advise you,” he said slowly, “to think very carefully about what you say next.”
Cassandra’s smile froze on her lips.
1/3
Chapter 88
Enzo didn’t raise his voice either. He didn’t need to. “The way you speak to her… it says more about you than it ever will about her
Matteo wasn’t smiling. He didn’t blink. “Next time you try to tear her down,” he said, voice quiet as falling ash, “make sure we’re not in the
room.”
No one moved.
My mother’s fork paused mid–air. Her face went pale. Cassandra’s mouth opened, then closed again, her face losing all its color.
I lowered myself back into my seat as calmly as I could, but inside, my heart was a storm. Not from fear–but from something I hadn’t felt in so long I barely recognized it.
Safety.
The kind you don’t ask for. The kind that just wraps around you and dares the world to try.
A small smile pulled at the corner of my lips. I didn’t let it grow too big. But it was there. Just a little one. They were like guard dogs–deadly, loyal, quiet. And somehow, they were mine.
Victor tried to break the silence, chuckling nervously. “Let’s not make a scene. It’s been a long day. Look–uh, I didn’t want to bring this up, but I’m having some business trouble. If you could help out, even a little, it’d mean a lot. For family’s sake.”
He gave a forced smile, pretending like nothing had happened.
Enzo’s face didn’t change. “What business exactly?”
Victor blinked. “It’s… you know, some online ventures. Retail, mostly. I’ve been investing.”
Matteo’s expression turned stone–cold. “Do you have records? A plan? Something we can look at?”
Victor’s smile faltered. “You don’t trust me?”
“No,” Dante said flatly. “We don’t.”
Victor laughed, but it was dry and weak. “You’re joking, right?”
“We’re not,” Enzo said. “You want support? Show us proof. Numbers. Something real. Until then, don’t ask us for a dime.”
Victor looked like he wanted to crawl under the table.
Cassandra jumped in quickly, like she could sense the tension tipping against them. “Aria,” she said, reaching across the table with that same fake warmth, “you know I’ve always wanted the best for you. These boys don’t need to think I’m some villain-”
All three of them stood up.
At the same time.
Slowly. Without a single wasted movement.
Their chairs scraped back against the marble floor, cold and final. Dante adjusted his cufflinks. Enzo took his blazer from the back of his chair. Matteo checked his watch like this entire dinner had bored him from the start.
“Let’s go,” Enzo said without even looking at them.
I rose to my feet automatically.
2/3
Chapter 88
Not one of them glanced back.
I followed in silence. My legs were shaking, but my chest was warm. For the first time in forever, I didn’t feel like the background churador a
the table.
I felt seen.
I didn’t need to scream to be had.
They saw me–and the whole room knew it.
As we walked out of the restaurant, the cold evening air kissed my skin, but it didn’t bother me. I was cocooned by their presence, one on each side, silent and tall like shadows that belonged to me. We didn’t speak, and we didn’t have to. Each step they took beside me felt like a statement, a promise–I wasn’t alone anymore. I glanced sideways, just once, and caught the sharp angle of Enzo’s jaw clenched tight, the storm behind Matteo’s eyes, and the way Dante’s hand subtly hovered near my lower back, not touching but close enough to catch me if I stumbled. A strange warmth bloomed in my chest–quiet, steady. Maybe this wasn’t love. But it felt like safety. And maybe, for now, that was enough.
Authors note: If you’ve read my book religiously up to this page. I love you and thank you so much
