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Alfio glares at him, elbowing him sharply in the side. “Cut it out.”

Then his attention shifts back to me. “Is that why you ran?” he asks. “Do you not want to be with him?”

The way he says it—like it’s a choice I was ever given—makes my mouth dry.

I offer them a small, tired smile. “I don’t know. It’s—”

“Complicated,” all three brothers echo.

Enzo’s says, “That’s what he says too. That’s what you say.”

Alfio leans back in his chair, the metal creaking. “I’m going to be plain. We know you don’t want to be here.” The way he says it isn't cruel, just matter-of-fact. “You’re not the type of woman who survives this world.”

Even Enzo is nodding and that makes it worse.

I swallow, folding my hands in my lap. “What type of woman survives this world?”

There’s a pause. It goes on long enough that I wonder if they’ll answer at all.

Omero’s voice breaks the stillness, gentler than I expect. “Women as cruel as us.”

I watch them carefully. Their features are sharp, weathered not just by age but by pain. The way they sit, alert even in rest.

I’m not like them. I don’t want to be. But I did hurt people. Does that mean I’m already changing?

Then Enzo clears his throat. “I asked Vieri if I could have you.”

Alfio chokes on a spoonful of hazelnut gelato, coughing into his fist. “You what?”

Omero nearly drops his spoon. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”

I turn my head toward Enzo, startled.

He meets my gaze. “He looked like he wanted to snap my neck.”

“You’re lucky that he didn’t,” Alfio mutters, dragging a napkin across his fingers.

Enzo shrugs. “I meant it. I’m here if you ever want to talk. Or... anything else. Whenever you’re ready.”

The way he says it is careful. But the sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache in a different way than Vieri does. Omero leans back and groans. “You know why he’s all over you, right?”

Enzo rolls his eyes. “Don’t start—”

Omero grins and leans toward me. “His ex? Cute as you. Sweet too. Before she dumped him.”

“Shut up!” Enzo groans, dragging his hands down his face.

“She had him wrapped around her little finger,” Alfio says, smirking. “Once, she said she wanted these cannolis from some bakery in Florence. Man drove all the way there and back. Missed a meeting with that Russian guy. Vieri lost his mind.”

“She had a cat that hissed at me every time I walked in,” Enzo adds under his breath. “I swear it was possessed.”

Their voices blend into laughter as I set my cup down, barely finished, and look out the window where the afternoon sun is blazing.

After a few minutes, we are done with our outing.

“We done?” Alfio asks, brushing crumbs off his pants as he stands.

Enzo looks to me first. I nod faintly.