Romeo doesn’t move.
We stand inches apart, the air between us vibrating with old wounds and older grudges.
“What do you know?” I growl.
Romeo’s expression shifts instantly.
The arrogance drops.The mocking tone evaporates.The smirk disappears.
What’s left is something I haven’t seen from him in years—
A flash of genuine fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
He goes quiet. Guarded. Locked down.
And that silence—
That silence is the answer I didn’t want.
Romeo knows something.Something about Pia.Something about Giovanni.Something about the predator stalking this church since the night our father died.
And whatever truth he’s carrying—
It’s poisonous.
It’s going to tear this family apart.
Giovanni’s Last Secret
Romeo doesn’t answer me right away.
Instead, he turns—slowly, deliberately—and walks toward the far edge of the crypt. The air shifts when he moves, like even the shadows know where he’s headed. My pulse kicks harder with every step he takes. I follow without meaning to, drawn the way a man inches toward the edge of a cliff he swears he won’t jump from.
He stops in front of one of the marble sarcophagi.
Rests his hand on it.
Giovanni’s.
My father.The king who raised us on blood, loyalty, and fear—who loved us in ways that hurt and protected us in ways that ruined us.
Romeo’s voice drops, quiet and weighted.
“We thought you knew,” he says.
Something cold coils into my lungs.
“Knew what?” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, scraping the air between us.
Romeo doesn’t turn around. He keeps staring at the slab of marble like he’s afraid Giovanni might sit up and answer for himself.
“You were the last one to speak to him,” Romeo murmurs. “You heard his confession.”
My stomach tightens.
