"She's eighteen," I reply. "She knows what is expected."
"It's different," Giovanni says quietly. "Quinn is... sweet. Innocent. Not like Daire."
I notice the way he says Quinn's name, the slight softening of his expression. Interesting.
"Quinn is a good girl," Vittoria agrees. "She might be exactly what Lorenzo needs, someone genuine, without hidden agendas."
Lorenzo finally speaks, his voice rough. "It doesn't matter what I need. This is about the family, about the alliance. My personal feelings are irrelevant."
His words sting because I recognize them. They're exactly the kind of thing I would have said at his age. Before Vittoria taught me that personal feelings could coexist with duty.
"Lorenzo—" I begin, but he cuts me off.
"May I be excused?" he asks, already pushing back from the table. "I'm not very hungry."
I nod, watching as my eldest son strides out of the room. The remaining children sit in uncomfortable silence.
"He'll be okay," Vittoria says softly, though I can hear the worry in her voice. "He just needs time."
I hope she's right. But as I look around the table at my children's concerned faces, I can't help but wonder what other challenges await our family.
In this world, happiness is always temporary. The only constant is the fight to protect what matters most.
And right now, that's my wife, my children, and the new life growing inside Vittoria.
Everything else can burn.
