"Listen to me," I order finally. "No one moves. No one responds. No one gets clever."
"Understood."
"He wants a choice," I continue. "I'm not giving him one."
I end the call and stay where I am, gripping the railing as the city fully wakes, bright and loud and deceptively intact. The bastard isn't just coming for my kingdom. He's trying to make it eat itself from the inside out. As much as I hate to admit it, he picked the right pressure point. But not for long. I turn back inside. War is coming. And I have a feeling it's going to get ugly.
The next morning…
Breakfast is already cleared when the tutor arrives. Amauri is thrilled at first—someone new, someone who treats him like he's fascinating—but I can tell he's still a little off, still recalibrating after everything. I hover longer than I mean to, smoothing his hair, kissing his temple, watching him settle with the quiet intensity he gets when he's trying to be brave.
Massimo watches from the doorway, arms folded, unreadable.
He looks up as I approach and says, "I don't want this to be permanent. Just for now."
I keep my voice low so Amauri won't hear. The tutor is already engaging him. "I had no idea you did this. And I appreciate it. I really do."
Massimo's gaze doesn't waver. He's listening. I don't want to seem bitchy, "But, there's one thing that needs to be clear between us." Something in his expression shifts, not anger, not resistance. Attention. "You don't get to make decisions about our son without talking to me first," I state calmly. "Not even good ones."
His jaw tightens, but he doesn't interrupt.
"I know your instincts are to protect," I go on. "And I'm grateful for that. But Amauri isn't a territory to secure or aproblem to solve. He's our child. And I need to be part of every choice that affects him."
For a heartbeat, the room feels very small. Then Massimo exhales slowly, like he's recalibrating rather than retreating.
"You're right," he agrees after a pause. The words carry more weight than any argument would have. "I didn't mean to cut you out," he adds. "I saw a risk and moved."
"I realize that," I concede softly. "That's why I'm saying this now. Before it becomes a habit."
He studies my face, searching for accusation, for fear. Finding neither.
"You won't have to remind me again," he nods. "We decide together."
Something in my chest loosens at that.
"Thank you," I reply.
He steps closer, lowering his voice further. "I'm still learning how to do this," he admits. "How to be… more than just the man who fixes things after they break."
I meet his eyes. "So am I."
From the table, Amauri looks up again. "Are you done talking?"
Massimo's mouth curves. "Sorry, bud."
Amauri nods, satisfied, and goes back to his work. Massimo takes my arm and directs me to his office to give Amauri and the tutor some privacy.
"Well, I guess now would be the time to tell you that I pulled some strings and enrolled Amauri in the best private school in the valley."
I stare at him.
"Private. Smaller. Better security." He keeps talking.
I turn to face him fully. "His schoolisprivate."
"Not enough," he counters immediately. "I've looked into it."
Of course he has.
