Page 62 of Fire and Silk

Mico does.

“She wants nothing to do with the inheritance,” he says, voice level but edged. “We’re leaving. The documents in the bank will be forwarded to you—signed. She’s waiving her claim.”

Matteo glances at me.

I don’t look at him.

My hands slip into my pockets. I keep my eyes on her.

Her hair’s pulled back now. Not neatly. There’s a twist of it falling loose by her ear. She keeps shifting her weight, one foot to the other, like she hasn’t decided yet whether to flee or stay.

I tilt my head.

“Is this your choice?” I ask her.

Not him.

Her.

The question hangs there. Not a threat. Not even a challenge. Just a hook in the water.

I wait for her to bite.

“It is her choice!” Mico snaps. His voice grates across the courtyard like steel on stone. His hand tightens on Lira’s arm.

I don’t look at him.

My eyes stay on her.

She’s trying to stay upright. I see the tremble in her knees, the tension in her jaw. Her fingers twist the fabric of her cardigan like she’s hoping it might anchor her to the gravel beneath her feet. Her eyes are wide. She hasn’t breathed properly since stepping out here.

I step forward, not quickly, not cautiously—just enough to make her lift her head.

“Your mother and my father were lovers,” I say.

The words still the morning.

Lira blinks , like a thread has snapped somewhere behind her eyes. She looks at me, her breath stuck somewhere between ribs and throat.

“They fled Italy together. Came here. Started a new life or tried to.” I tilt my chin, just slightly. “She miscarried their child. That ended things between them—but not before she built half of what my father owns. He owed her more than a goodbye.”

Mico moves, half a step forward. “This is irrelevant—”

“No,” I say, cutting across him like a blade through silk. “This is her inheritance. And she deserves to know what it is before she signs it away.”

Lira hasn’t looked at him since I started speaking. Her eyes are on me now, and I don’t break contact.

“This is your birthright,” I say. “You can command men. Trade with kings. Re-route power lines and black markets. You can’t truly reject what you’ve never seen.”

I take one more step forward.

She doesn’t back away.

Mico does it for her, one arm curling slightly to guide her behind him.

It’s sweet, in its way.

But unnecessary.