Page 151 of The Silent War

All our pain bled through in that one look. His hands were flexing against his knees, restless, desperate to reach her too but afraid to move. For once in our lives, Luca wasn’t capable of words. His silence screamed louder than anything.

I kissed her hairline, breathing her in. “You just love us, baby,” I whispered. “That’s all you have to do. We’ll handle everything else.”

Her voice was muffled against my neck. “That’s too easy.”

My throat clenched. I kissed the side of her temple, softer this time. “It’s not easy. It’s killing me. Every second without you, every night we didn’t have you—it gutted me. But loving us, that’s the part that’s always been simple. You don’t carrythe rest. That’s on us. We’ll bleed for it. We’ll bury for it. All you have to do is stay.”

Her body shivered in my arms.

Luca finally spoke, standing and walking towards us.

“He’s right. You don’t need to have a plan. That’s us. You just breathe. You just love us. We’ll take the city, the dynasty, your brother—we’ll take all of it.”

Her head lifted slightly, her eyes glassy. “Then tell me… what abouther?”

Luca stilled beside me. “Her?” he repeated, careful, buying time.

“The notifications,” she said. “Fromhersecurity. Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen them. Who was she?”

My chest tightened. She thought it was another woman. Of course she did. That was the only explanation she could reach without seeing the truth.

“Cecilia’s team,” I said flatly. “She’s reckless, she needs watching.”

Emilia’s frown deepened.

I lied. They were all notifications about her. Every ping, every log, every guard who thought they were hired by a dynasty contract—ours. But I wasn’t about to tell her that, yet.

“And the thread to the driver—the one making sure the car was warm beforeshegot in?”

Luca brushed her hair back. “Sofia. She hates the cold.”

Her mouth pressed into a line.

“And the clothes?” she asked, voice breaking. “The racks of dresses, shoes. Who do those belong to?”

We couldn’t lie about that one. Those clothes were from the designers, for her.

“Yours,” I moved my hand down her back. “We wanted you to have clothes here. That’s all.”

Her breath hitched. A small, broken laugh slipped out. “God, I’m stupid.”

“No.” Luca moved closer, turning her gently on my lap so she faced him. His hand framed her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. “You’re not stupid. You thought it because we didn’t tell you. That’s on us. Not you.”

He kissed her cheek once, desperate. “Sorry, baby. That’s on us.”

I pressed my mouth to her hair, holding her tighter. One day we would tell her. That we’d never let go, not even in silence. That every choice, every detail, every comfort in her life had been ours to decide.

Chapter Forty-Five

LUCA

The knife was steady in my hand.The rest of me wasn’t.

I’d lined the counter like I was staging an operation. Chicken brined. Lemon segments waiting in a glass. Vegetables in neat diagonals that would’ve passed inspection at Ember & Ice.

I could control a city with a phone and a quiet room. I couldn’t control the tremor that showed up in my wrist when I thought about the way she’d looked at me last night, soft, wrecked, hopeful—and how I’d kept my eyes on the floor.

Every slight move caused pain through my ribs. Pain I deserved.