Page 74 of Twisted Vows

Focus on the butter. The bread. Anything but him.

We eat in silence that tastes like dry toast and regret.

From the corner of my eye, I study him. That strong jaw. The mouth that never apologizes. The eyes that burn without blinking. This maddening, unreadable man infuriates me. He nearly killed someone for calling me a name.

And I don’t hate him for it.

He stands, buttons his jacket, and adjusts his cuff links in a ritualistic way. One glance in my direction, and then he’s gone.

The echo of his absence lingers longer.

The house creaks as if it’s holding its breath.

I spend the next hour solving Gio’s abandoned puzzle cube, each click and turn punctuating the questions spiraling through my head.

I want answers. I deserve them. So, if Enzo won’t speak, maybe Mama will.

And maybe…I also just need to feel tethered to something that existed before all this. Before marble floors, loaded glances, and my name growled like a warning.

Outside, Gio’s attempting to flirt with one of the maids using three cookies and a wilted flower. Poor boy’s about as subtle as a marching band.

“Gio,” I call sweetly.

He jumps as if I’ve caught him stealing from Cupid’s personal stash.

“I need a ride.”

He frowns. “Where?”

“The hospital. I want to see my mother.”

His face flushes. He won’t meet my eyes, suddenly very interested in his shoes. “I’d have to clear that.”

“Or…you could not. Enzo won’t be back until tonight, right?” I lower my voice and activate my teacher mode. “You’d be helping me, Gio. A favor.”

The boy caves like a house of cards.

A while later, we pull up in front of the impressive new facility housing my mother, a cathedral of modern medicine with its white walls, manicured hedges, and nurses who look like they’ve been assembled by a French couture team.

Money did this. Enzo did this.

Anger and gratitude wrestle in my chest.

Mama’s suite belongs in a glossy brochure. When I enter, she’s alert and sitting up. Her hair’s brushed, her eyes sharp, soft, and whole.

My knees buckle. I’m stunned by the quick transformation.

“Mama.” My voice is heavy with both hope and fear.

She smiles. “You came.”

I drop beside her and grasp her hands. “I missed you.”

Her delicate fingers clench mine with surprising strength. Her gaze flickers to Gio, who respectfully waits outside the room.

She tightens her grip. “Are you safe?”

“Mostly.” I pause, taking a second to breathe. “I’m…with Enzo Ricci.”