"She didn't. Called looking for Sophia, actually. Said she knew Sophia was with us from the engagement photos." Dante takes a sharp turn, and I bite back a wince as my tender body shifts. "Here's the strange part—no guards were hurt. Not one."
"That's impossible," Lorenzo says. "Francesco kept at least six men on night shift."
"He dismissed them." Dante glances at us in the rearview mirror. "The maid said Francesco ordered food for two sent to his office around midnight. Then he told the night shift to take a half-hour break. Said he had a guest coming that no one could see."
What?
"He never did that."
"The staff assumed it was a woman," Dante continues. "You know, something sexual. The maid said they'd heard rumors he had someone on the side, someone he kept very private."
"No." The word comes out sharper than intended. "Francesco never had women over. I lived in that house my entire life. He was always alone."
Lorenzo shifts beside me. "You're sure?"
"Positive. He was..." I search for the right words. "He was bitter about women. Luna's mother died giving birth to her, and it destroyed something in him. That's why he and Luna had such an awful relationship. He blamed her for existing."
The car goes silent except for the hum of the engine.
"I never knew they had a bad relationship." Lorenzo's voice sounds distant, like he's speaking from very far away. "Lunaalways said she loved him so much. Said he was the only family who understood her."
I turn to look at him, ignoring the protest from my sore muscles. "Luna lied about a lot of things."
Dante clears his throat. "If it wasn't a woman Francesco was meeting..."
"Then it was business," Lorenzo finishes. "Someone he trusted enough to dismiss his guards for. Someone who could get close enough to put three bullets in his head without a fight."
"Daniil?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Had to be someone Francesco knew well. Someone he'd let get that close." Lorenzo's jaw works. "The Russians have been working with him for months. He'd trust Daniil enough to meet privately."
"You're right," I say, my voice steadier than I feel. "If it was someone else, it could be anyone. Someone I had no idea he was working with."
The compound gates loom ahead.
Dante pulls into the circular drive, and Lorenzo helps me out of the car.
The moment we step through the door, Bruno's wheelchair blocks our path.
"Well, well." His voice drips venom. "Now that your sweet uncle is out of the picture, you can do me a favor and get the hell out of here."
"Bruno." Lorenzo steps between us, his body a wall of controlled fury. "Sophia will stay here because she's a family member."
Bruno laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. "Family member? Christ, Lorenzo, I knew you were thinking with your dick, but this is pathetic."
Heat floods my face. The soreness between my legs suddenly feels like a brand, like everyone can see what we did last night.
"If you continue talking like that," Lorenzo's voice drops to something dangerous, "and making Sophia feel unwelcome, I'll leave too."
The foyer goes silent.
Bruno's eyes glitter with cruelty. "I don't give a fuck."
Lorenzo's entire body goes rigid beside me, and for a moment I think he might actually hit his brother. His brother in a wheelchair. His brother who just woke from a coma to find everything changed.
"Bruno—" Vittoria appears from the hallway, her face pale. "Stop it."
"Why? Because the princess might get her feelings hurt?" Bruno's gaze never leaves mine. "Her uncle just got three bullets to the brain. You think whoever did that is going to stop there? Every second she's in this house, she's putting us all at risk."
