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Sandro stood stiffly, but he didn’t object to how Griselda plastered herself to his side in a show of possessiveness. Did I misread his concern for me all these years? Too blinded by my obsession with him, I couldn’t see him the way he really saw me.

“Oh, poor baby,” Griselda continued. “Sandro cares for you, but you’re always going to be like a baby sister to him.”

She spelled out what my obsession had kept me from seeing. Sandro remained a silent, brooding mountain beside her, not even trying to contradict her.

“You’re right.” The grinding in my jaw started to hurt. “Now, can I leave?”

“Not so fast.” A new voice joined the conversation, and Gian stepped into the room.

Sandro wiped his face clean of emotions. Griselda grew wary. Tension snaked into the room and coiled around us.

“Bianca De Lucci. Now why is Cesar’s youngest here?”

“There was a last-minute change to the catering.” It was Tommy who spoke up. “There was a bit of confusion and there was no dessert.”

“Oh, I remember now,” Gian said in a tone as silky as slime. “Your family owns a café bakery. But…why were you pouring wine, hmmm? Were you hoping to poison the Rossis?”

“That’s absolute nonsense. I’m just a business grad trying to find her footing. And if you had the right info on me, you’d know I get into different things. Like I’m helping out at my brother’s café right now.”

Gian stood beside Sandro. “Is that right? The De Luccis always seemed to be peripherally involved whenever a Rossi boss gets assassinated.” He looked at Sandro. “First Frankie, and then Joe.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Sandro cut in, but he didn’t offer an explanation.

“I guess we’ll never know, but I think if I dig hard enough…”

When Gian passed Sandro and moved closer to me, Sandro’s shoulders noticeably stiffened, but Griselda gripped his arm to keep him in place.

“Let her go, Gian,” Sandro said, his voice quiet but fierce.

“Or what, Sandro?” Gian mocked. “Your little pet obviously came here for something.”

“I told you I just delivered the baked goods, but you were short on serving staff, so I helped. And I wanted to congratulate Sandro on his engagement.”

Gian laughed like a hyena. Meanwhile, Sandro was growing more remote, his face darkening, and he was eyeing the back of Gian’s head like a piñata. His gaze briefly drifted to mine, but his chin dipped and his eyes scouted the area.

When Gian stopped laughing, he turned to Tommy. “Make sure you educate whoever is screening the service staff forgatherings like this. We’re two Rossi bosses down. We need to be more careful,capisce?”

Gian’s beady eyes returned to me. “Now, what am I going to do with you?”

“You have no choice but to let her go,” Sandro gritted.

“Bianca!” Renz’s voice shouted behind me. I spun around to see my brother barreling in from the other entrance of the living room.

I stumbled toward him, and he hauled me into his arms. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I cried, my relief crashing over me.

Renz glared over my shoulder. “We’re leaving.”

“Not so fast,” Gian hissed. “How do I know you’re not spying?”

Tommy started to say something, but Gian held up his hand and cut him off.

“This was a mistake.” Renz started backing away with me, not confirming or denying Gian’s accusation.

Sandro’s stoic face morphed into one of alarm and anger. He rushed forward and pushed Gian out of the way. I thought he was trying to grab me from Renz.

Everything happened at the same time and in slow motion.