Lorenzo nods, not giving anything up until he’s ready to, or at least until I ask the right question.
“Where?”
Lorenzo’s gaze holds mine. It’s steady and unblinking. “Your parents’.”
My brain actually stutters. Like short-circuits completely.
Did he just say he’s taking me to my parents’ house?
My mouth opens, and nothing comes out.
Rafe shifts, clearing his throat, probably reminding me that I’m standing in the foyer with my mouth open.
I swallow hard. “Why?”
Lorenzo’s shoulders lift in a lazy shrug that doesn’t match the sharpness in his eyes. “Because you’ve been throwing a tantrum, and it’s getting annoying.”
My fingers curl into a fist. “So this is, what? A treat? You’re taking me for a walk like a dog?”
“Of course not . . .” His mouth parts into a smirk. “Dogs are loyal.”
I flinch without meaning to, and Lorenzo, the fucker, watches the flinch and loves it.
Then he steps back, as if granting me air is a privilege. “Get dressed. Something more suitable for the public, but also something you can run in if you decide to be stupid.”
My jaw tightens. “Are you threatening me or giving fashion advice?”
His mouth kicks up. “Both.”
Rafe laughs but tries unsuccessfully to cover it up with a cough.
I glance at Nico because my brain wants an ally, even when it knows better. “And him?”
Lorenzo follows my look, voice turning colder. “Nico escorts you. You don’t leave his sight. You don’t talk about where you’ve been. You don’t say my name at all.”
My teeth grind together. “As if I’d ever willingly talk about you.”
Lorenzo’s eyes gleam. “If you behave, maybe this won’t be your last excursion.”
I stare at him for another beat, then spin on my heel and head back up the stairs before I do something that ends with me bleeding on marble.
In my room, I dress fast in jeans, boots, and a sweater. I drag my hair into a knot and stare at my reflection.Not bad.
A knock comes again, and like before, it’s soft.
Not Lorenzo . . . thank God.
I open the door to find Marta holding my coat. Her fingers are trembling as she offers it to me.
“You’re going out?” she whispers.
I take the coat and pull it on slowly. “Apparently, I’ve been granted a day pass from jail.”
Marta’s lips part, then close again. She wants to say something.
“Don’t. It’s fine.” I give her a small smile before I walk past her into the hallway.
Once downstairs, the air feels colder and heavier. Lorenzo stands by the door.
