The room sank into silence the moment she left.

I had expected something like this-Xavier pushing her away was inevitable. But not like this. Not to this extent.

Leaning back in my chair, I caught the long, weary look Father sent me. Honestly, I was proud of my bambina. The way she stood her ground without letting their words rattle her-it was impressive. Fierce. Unshakable.

But I saw it. The tears she refused to let fall. Stubborn and brave-like a damn knight in armor.

Xavier stormed out right after her. Killian tried to follow, but I stopped him with a quiet command.

"Not now, Killian. Let him cool down. I'll talk to him later."

Pushing back my chair, I stood.

"Adriano, Tristan-check on her in a bit. And make sure she eats something. She barely touched her dinner."

They nodded and slipped out without a word.

Soon, it was just me and Father in the quiet of the living room. He sighed heavily.

I arched a brow. "You're not happy Liana stood up for herself?"

He gave me a look-half disbelief, half exasperation.

"You won't be asking me that when you become a father, Dante," he said. "Of course I'm proud she defended herself. But what I don't like is how fast everything spiraled. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, and already my children are at each other's throats."

"Xavier loves her," I said quietly. "He's just scared. Give him time."

"I'm not giving him a damn second if he keeps insulting what she believes in," he snapped. "I understand he's angry. Elena wasn't a good mother-we all know that. He has a right to be hurt. But taking it out on Liana? That's not fair. To her, or to him. Also Liana did say somthing that were too far as well"

"I'll talk to him," I promised. "Don't worry."

We fell into a heavy silence before he turned to face me fully, his expression dark.

"Did you notice the bruises on her knuckles and forehead?" he asked, voice low.

I stiffened instantly, fury twisting inside me like a blade. The mere thought of someone laying a hand on my angel made my vision blur.

"It was hard not to notice," I said through clenched teeth. "Whoever killed Elena must've gone after her too."

He nodded, something cold and dangerous flickering in his gaze.

"Find him. Before the police do. He should know he touched the wrong people."

A slow, merciless smile tugged at my lips.

"Consider it done."

"So, Dad," I began again, this time my voice low, serious. "Now that she's back... and that thing is still out there-we need to find a way to stop it. And fast."

His hand clenched around the glass so tightly that it cracked with a sharp snap.

His voice was a growl, full of fury and fire.

"No one-and I mean no one-is taking her away again. Not while I'm breathing." He looked at me, eyes burning. "They'll have to go through my dead body first."

I nodded, vowing myself that the reason she took her away from us will be never the reason she gets hurts or she even knows about it.

I got up and went to the direction of the gym, knowing he was going to be here.

And I was right.

There he was-Xavier, punching the hell out of a bag like it had personally insulted him. The idiot hadn't even bothered to wrap his hands. Blood was already starting to smear across the canvas.

"Spare me the lecture, Dante," he muttered, not even glancing my way.

"I'm not here to lecture you, Xavier," I said coolly. "I'm here to warn you."

He gave me a quick glance before throwing another brutal hit.

"If you keep going down this path... you're going to lose her. For good."

There was a loud thud as Xavier slammed another hit into the bag. His knuckles were raw now, bleeding. Still, he didn't stop.

I stayed silent for a beat. Just let him work through it-until the silence between his punches became heavier than the sound.

Finally, he exhaled shakily and leaned his forehead against the bag, shoulders trembling from something far deeper than exhaustion.

"I'm not pushing her away because I don't love her," he said quietly, barely audible. "I'm pushing her away because I do."

I didn't say a word. Just waited.

"She was gone for years, Dante. Stolen. And now she's back, and she's in danger all over again. You think I don't know what's coming? You think I haven't figured out why our mother took her and ran?"

He turned slightly, eyes haunted and red-rimmed. "If Liana means something to us-if she means something to me-they'll come for her again. And this time... I don't think we'll be able to stop it."

"Xavier..." I stepped closer.

"I'm not just protecting her," he whispered. "I'm protecting myself too. From the idea of losing her again. I barely survived it once." His voice cracked. "So I'm saving myself the pain."

I nodded slowly. "I get it. More than you think."

He looked at me, finally really looked at me.

"But listen to me, brother," I continued. "You think you're protecting her by keeping her at a distance, but all you're doing is breaking her heart-and yours."

"She deserves to choose. You don't get to decide what's too dangerous for her. She's not fragile, and she sure as hell isn't running."

"She's back. This time, we fight for her. Together. Even from that thing."

"And dad's going to body slam you to a wall the next time you make her cry, so it's for your own good as well" I earned a laugh at that.

I got up "fix it before it's too late" with that I left, leaving him along with his thoughts.

LIANA AVERY COLLINS

I was curled up on the oversized couch in the library, wrapped in one of the ancient velvet throws that smelled like cinnamon and dust. A book was open in my lap, but I hadn't turned a page in over twenty minutes. My head throbbed, my heart even more so.

There was a soft knock on the door before it creaked open-no one ever bothered with formality in this house.

"We come bearing gifts," Adriano announced dramatically, stepping in with a tray of something suspiciously steaming and colorful.

"Is that... cereal?" I asked warily.

"Not just cereal," Tristan cut in behind him, proudly holding up a silver spoon like it was a sacred sword. "It's emotionally supportive cereal. With marshmallows, chocolate chips, and... some sprinkles we stole from the kitchen."

"And possibly a drop of hot sauce," Adriano added under his breath.

"You what?" I blinked at them.

"We were experimenting," Tristan defended. "The heart heals through bold choices."

"Oh stars," I muttered, already fighting the twitch of a smile.

Adriano set the tray on the table, then cleared his throat. "In addition to our culinary masterpiece, we've prepared a dramatic reenactment of Xavier's emotional damage-"

"No," I said immediately.

"Too late," Tristan grinned. "We're already committed."

Adriano stepped forward, lowered his voice, and began dramatically: "I must push her away, for her safety! For mine! I have trauma and angst and I do NOT communicate like a normal person!"

Tristan dropped to his knees with his arms spread wide, wailing, "Woe is me, my feelings scare me! Let me ruin everything good in my life instead of using words!"

Adriano pretended to punch a wall. "I have fists, not emotional maturity!"

And that's when the cereal tray flipped-because Tristan got way too into it, flailing and knocking it off the table with a yelp. The bowl landed with a glorious splat, rainbow goo and chocolate flying everywhere.

There was a beat of stunned silence.

And then I burst out laughing. Like, real laughing. The kind that shook my shoulders and made my eyes water.

"Oh my gods, you two are idiots," I gasped between fits of giggles.

"Mission accomplished," Adriano said, flopping next to me with zero shame.

"Totally worth the hot sauce in my eye," Tristan added, still wiping cereal off his cheek.

They both flopped onto my bed like they owned the place-Adriano even stole one of my pillows and sighed dramatically like he'd just fought a war.

"So," Tristan said, wiggling his eyebrows like a gremlin, "what's the next move, Empress of Gloom?"

"We could watch a movie," Adriano offered, staring at the ceiling. "Or gossip. Or-brace yourself-I heard girls like skincare, so we're heroically volunteering our faces as sacrifices to the beauty gods."

"I have delicate pores," Tristan added solemnly.

Adriano nodded. "But my favorite option, hands down-insulting Xavier. My current go-to? Poophead."

I snorted "what are you 10? Poophead really?"

Tristan gasped, hand over his heart like I'd just insulted his entire bloodline. "Excuse you, poophead is a very sophisticated insult. Reserved only for those who act like emotionally repressed gorillas."

Adriano snorted from beside him, already stealing one of my pillows. "He's been saving that one all day. Practiced it in the mirror, too."

Tristan huffed. "I did not-okay maybe a little."

I shook my head, the smile tugging wider despite myself. "You two are ridiculous."

Adriano wiggled his brows. "And yet... effective. You're smiling again, principessa. Admit it-we're the best medicine."

"The best medicine who might accidentally destroy my room," I muttered as Tristan picked up my lip mask and studied it like it was a science experiment. "Do you even know how to use that?"

"Of course I do," he said confidently, ripping it open. "It goes on your-wait, does this go in your mouth?"

"No!" I yelped, laughing. "It's for your lips, not your tonsils."

Adriano was already filming him with his phone. "This is going in the family group chat. Caption: 'Man discovers skincare. Immediately regrets it.'"

Tristan groaned, flopping back against the pillows. "You're evil."

"And yet you love me," Adriano said sweetly.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the mask from Tristan's hand before he hurt himself. "Okay, okay, if we're doing skincare, you two follow my lead and don't eat anything this time."

"See?" Adriano smirked at Tristan. "She is smiling again."

I was. Genuinely, unexpectedly, smiling again.

And somewhere, under the silliness and sarcasm, I felt something shift. Maybe-just maybe-I wasn't as alone in this as I thought.

Thirty minutes later, all three of us were lounging on my bed like it was a day spa-but with more glitter and significantly more complaining.

Adriano poked at the pink clay mask drying on his face, frowning like it had personally betrayed him. "Why is this thing tightening? Is it trying to vacuum my soul out through my pores?"

"It smells like unicorn tears and betrayal," Tristan muttered, sniffing the cucumber-something mask I slathered on him. "Also, I can't move my face. I feel like a very glamorous corpse."

"You two are the worst spa clients," I said, biting back a laugh. "People pay extra for this treatment."

"I didn't sign up for aromatherapy-induced emotional trauma," Adriano grumbled. "Also, why does my nose tingle?"

"That's the serum working," I said sweetly. "Or karma."

Tristan flopped back on the bed dramatically, his face crackling slightly. "I'm too beautiful for this pain. My cheekbones are fighting for their lives."

I snorted, officially done.

"You're lucky I love you," Adriano muttered, clutching a fluffy pink headband I made him wear like it was a crown of thorns.

"You begged me try it!" I mentioned at them with my hands "We were trying to cheer you up, not signing for our face to be glittery"

"You look like you love me," I said, grinning at the sparkly mess we'd become.

"Good," he said, pointing at his glitter-covered chin. "Because if Xavier doesn't fix his emotionally repressed poophead behavior soon, I'm going to kick his ass"

"Delusional," Tristan said. "But I support this plan."

I peeled open another face mask packet, and both boys groaned in harmony like tortured opera singers.

"What is this one for now?" Adriano asked, attempting to sound annoyed and not like he was secretly enjoying every second.

"I promise this is the last thing," I said, grinning like the villain I truly am, and smeared the cooling gel across their already pampered faces.

"You're turning us into skincare burritos," Tristan mumbled as I patted the mask onto his cheeks.

"Now..." I said, settling back with satisfaction, "wanna watch a movie while we wait for our glow-ups to settle in?"

"As long as it's not emotional," Tristan said with the seriousness of a man who's cried during shampoo commercials.

Adriano snorted. "Says the guy who cries over wedding proposals."

"That was one time!" Tristan argued.

"You sniffled through a proposal ad on YouTube last week," Adriano deadpanned.

I burst out laughing so hard I nearly fell off the bed. "He said, 'It's just so pure!'" He mimicked between wheezes.

Tristan muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "Those things are too happy and emotional," while pulling the blanket over his head like it would save him from the slander.

Ignoring him, I clicked on The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1.

The moment the movie started, Adriano squinted at the screen like it had personally offended him. "Wait... What movie is this?"

I turned to him so fast you'd think he insulted my entire bloodline. "YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE MOVIE LEGEND?"

He looked mildly terrified, scooting to the head of the bed like I was about to throw hands-or a glitter mask. "I'm sorry?" he said, completely confused but wisely apologetic.

"Oh, no. You're getting wrecked, sir. You're binge-watching the entire saga. No breaks. No mercy."

They both hesitated at the edge of the bed like I was about to initiate some kind of cinematic trial-by-fire. Eventually, they slunk back down beside me, resigned to their fates.

We were barely ten minutes into Katniss blowing up propaganda when the door slammed open like a horror movie jump scare.

Lucas stood there, emotionless as ever, eyes scanning our glittery, masked faces like we were a science experiment gone wrong. He let out a long-suffering sigh, shut the door, and walked off without a word.

"Was that approval or judgement?" Tristan whispered.

"Both," Adriano replied.

And that? That just made me laugh again.

"Whats his problem anyways? Why doesn't he talk or his face always looks like he is brooding?" As soon as I asked that, silence went into the room-and not the comfortable silence.

Thy shifted awkwardly "That's not our story to tell" Adriano said quietly. I nodded not pushing forward.

My eyes immediately went to my tables second drawers in which I was hiding the letter.

Everyone has secrets. They have theirs, and I have mine. But let's just hope mine don't come with a price too high to pay.

I didn't even realised when I failed asleep but the last thing I heard in perfect Italian.

"Thank you so much, angel, for giving us a chance. I promise I'll make sure no one ever takes it for granted-not even poophead. I love you so much, and I'm ready to beat up any guy who dares come near you because you're too beautiful to lose.

Grazie mille, angelo, per averci dato una possibilità. Prometto che farò in modo che nessuno la dia mai per scontata-nemmeno quel testone. Ti amo tantissimo, e sono pronto a dare una lezione a qualsiasi ragazzo che osi avvicinarsi a te, perché sei troppo bella per perderti."