The drive to the DeLuca compound is going to be the longest twenty minutes of my life.
3
BIANCA
God, everything feels soawkward.
I can’t put my finger on what’s changed, but there’s different in the air.
A tension that makes my skin prickle.
More security guards than usual patrol the grounds, and they’re not trying to be subtle about it.
Their posture is changed too, alert in a way that suggests actual threat rather than routine protocol.
Alessandro walks me to the front door but doesn’t come inside, which is weird.
Usually when there’s family business, he at least comes in to debrief with Dad.
Instead, he just squeezes my shoulder and says, “Stay close to home tonight,” before heading back to his car.
Stay close to home.
Like I’m fucking twelve again.
Inside, the house feels like everyone’s holding their breath.
Maria, our housekeeper, practically jumps when I say hello, and Tony—one of Dad’s guys who’s usually relaxed around me—won’t quite meet my eyes when I pass him in the hallway.
Conversations stop when I enter rooms.
Not the normal pause when someone walks in, but the abrupt, guilty silence of people who were talking about something they don’t want me to hear.
I find Dad and Bella in the family room, and for a second, everything looks normal.
Dad’s sitting on the couch with Arianna on his lap, helping her stack colorful blocks while Giovanni crashes toy cars into the coffee table legs.
Bella’s curled up next to them, laughing at something Giovanni just said, her hand resting on Dad’s arm in that casual, intimate way that always makes their love obvious.
They look like the perfect family. Mom, dad, and their beautiful twins.
Suddenly I feel like I’m watching them through glass—like I’m looking at something I’m not really part of, even though I’ve always been part of it.
The feeling is so uneasy and unexpected that I actually pause in the doorway, studying the scene.
“Banca!” Arianna squeals when she spots me, abandoning her blocks to reach her arms up for a hug.
The nickname makes me smile despite my confusion. She can’t quite say “Bianca” yet, so I’m “Banca” to both twins, which Dad thinks is hilarious and Bella finds adorable.
I cross over and scoop her up, pressing a kiss to her soft hair.
She smells like baby shampoo and the sweet scent of apples, her favorite fruit.
Arianna is delicate like her mother, with Bella’s hazel eyes and soft features, but she has the DeLuca dark hair. “Hey, Aria. What are you building?”
“Castle!” she announces proudly, pointing at the scattered blocks.
Giovanni looks up from where he’s been systematically knocking down everything his sister builds, and I can’t help but smile.
