I’m still watching her when the dining room doors swing open again. Matteo and Elio walk in mid-conversation before both abruptly stopping at the sight before them. I inwardly groan. What the fuck are they doing here so early?
Although I know the answer. They’re here to check up on me and had definitely not been expecting the scene before them. Me at breakfast with my hostage.
Liliana straightens at the sight of them while Matteo’s eyes slowly drags between the two of us with open fascination.
“Well,” he says finally. “This is already the most interesting morning I’ve had all week.”
“Liliana,” I start, tamping down my annoyance, “These are my brothers, Matteo and I’m sure you remember Elio from yesterday.”
She offers him a small sharp smile, “How’s the head?”
“I’ll live. No thanks to you, miss Navarro,” my younger brother says dryly.
“Zaccari,” she bites out. “My last name is Zaccari but you can call me Liliana.”
Matteo and Elio share a brief look at that.
“We said you should hold her hostage, Rafaelle, not offer her a three course meal as breakfast,” Matteo states, sliding into the seat on my left.
Elio follows suit with a short laugh. But then his attention catches on to the knife right next to Liliana’s plate. He freezes.
“Is that one of your knives?”
Liliana lifts it like she’s showing it off, “Rafaelle gave it to me last night. A peace offering.”
Both my brothers look horrified. Understandably so. I must seem crazy right now.
“You gave your captive a knife?” Matteo asks incredulously.
“Not just any knife,” Elio mutters, sounding genuinely disturbed as he studies the blade at her side. “It’s the one from Nigel. He loves that thing. You threatened to cut my arm off the last time I touched it.”
Liliana glances up, watching me carefully, probably wondering why I gave her something she’s starting to realize is so precious.
“Enough about my knives,” I grumble. “Liliana has promised to behave.”
“Actually, I did no such thing.”
I shoot her a glare. Is now really the right time?
She shrugs once before digging into her food, ignoring the three of us. I can feel Matteo’s gaze on the side of my face, unrelenting enough that I finally turn to look at him.
“What?” I murmur.
“You’re a shit captor.”
“Whatever. Is Salvatore back from his vacation?”
Our eldest brother has been gone for over a week. Romantic getaway with his precious wife. I’m glad for it though. If the Don was around, this particular situation with Liliana would be progressing much quicker.
“He’ll be back later today and then all four of us will have a conversation,” he says and there’s no missing the unspoken intention behind his words.
They want to discuss how I’ve gone and officially lost my shit. I’m not looking forward to it.
“So, Liliana,” Elio drawls. “Why don’t you tell us about the first time you met my brother?”
They already know this story. They just want to hear it from her point of view. Assholes.
She considers the request for a moment before launching into the short tale that ended after a single night. They’re just as riveted as when I told it. They find it funny when she mentions some parts I’d intentionally left out. Not the intimate ones, but the fact that I grudgingly bought her food and the horror of a drink she made me that night.
