Alessia
The dining hall was grand as ever, the chandelier casting an expensive glow over the long table. But despite the elegant surroundings, the air felt suffocating. A slow, uneasy dread coiled in my stomach as I sat across from my father, my stepmother Francesca, and my brothers. Valentino sat beside my father, his usual smug expression in place as he swirled the wine in his glass.
Jay stood near the entrance, silent, watching. He hadn’t said a word to me all evening. I hadn’t missed the tension in his jaw, the way his hands had been balled into fists the moment Valentino walked in.
Something was wrong.
The meal passed with uneasy quiet, the clinking of silverware against fine china the only sound filling the space. Until my father set his glass down, clearing his throat.
“I have
