Marcelina's POV
I couldn't tell if they were talking about me or not—but the way his mother's eyes drifted back to me again, slower this time, made it hard not to assume the worst.
It felt like being examined without being addressed. Like she was reassessing everything she had just heard—and everything she had just said.
And somehow, that felt worse than the insult.
I held her gaze for a second before looking away, the weight of it starting to get to me.
God, I needed to get out of here.
"My wife and I will be having breakfast," Domenico said calmly, as if reading my thoughts.
He didn't even wait for a response before turning, his hand tightening slightly at my waist as he guided me away from them.
I didn't hesitate.
I just followed him, my steps quickening as the distance betwe
