Page 56 of Of Lies and Shadows

“She protected your children!”

That stops me cold. My grip falters. My heart hammers.

“She did more for them than any of your soldiers would,” he continues, his voice quiet but hard. “She reads bedtime stories. Lunches packed just the way they like. She kisses their bruises and laughs at their jokes. And she did it all knowing any day, someone could put a bullet in her head.”

I step back, my breath ragged, and my fists slowly unclenching.

Bruno straightens his shirt, no smugness left in his expression. Just weariness. Like he's been holding the weight of this for a long damn time.

“I don’t need to fuck her to care, Forzi,” he says, calm as stone. “I already do.”

I stare at him, blood roaring in my ears, the echo of my own actions crashing down on me.

“She’s mine,” I say, but the words come out flat. Lifeless. Even I can hear the lie in them.

Bruno gives me a half smile, all venom. “No, she’s not. And she never will be. Not in any way that matters. And you’ve got no one to blame for that but yourself.”

My jaw ticks. “Does she know?”

He frowns. “Know what?”

“That you’re in love with her?”

His expression twists like I’ve insulted him. “Jesus, Forzi. You really don’t know a damn thing.”

And then it clicks. A memory, a pattern, a thousand little threads snapping into place. I see it in the color of his eyes, or maybe I want to see it because if I’m right, the entire game changes.

“You’re not in love with her,” I say slowly. “It’s deeper than that. Youaskedto be here. Requested it.”

He doesn’t respond. Just stares, the silence thick between us.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” I press.

He exhales hard. “What’s your grand revelation now?”

I let it land between us, cold and certain.

“You’re her brother.”

The silence that follows isn’t denial. It’s confirmation.

Of course. Same eyes. Same spine. Same stupid, self-sacrificing instincts. How the fuck did I miss it?

Bruno doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just looks at melike he’s waiting to see what kind of man I’ll be next.

“Does she know?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He leans back slightly, folding his arms. “Francesca feels everything too deeply. She always has. If she knew… it would break her.”

“Because you’re a bastard?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “Because she’d see it as another injustice. Another secret kept from her. She’d blame herself somehow or try to fix it. She’d hate that I’ve been part of Mori’s inner circle, even if it was just to protect her.”

I frown, unsettled. “So she’s miserable now?”

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