Page 57 of Of Lies and Shadows

His voice drops, rough around the edges. “She’s been miserable her whole life. You’ve seen the way she disappears, goes quiet and small like she’s trying to become invisible. That didn’t start with you.” He meets my eyes. There’s no malice there, just truth. “She’s been surviving since she was a child. I couldn’t stop it then. I just… didn’t want to add to the weight she’s already carrying.”

“I—” I start, but the words fall flat. Useless.

“I’m done with this conversation.” He grabs his towel from the bench, his movements clipped and final. “If you want answers, ask her yourself.”

I should let him go. I should. But just before he disappears through the bedroom door, I speak again, reluctantly.

“Why do you say she’ll never be mine?”

He pauses, back still to me. And then, without turning around, he answers.

“Because you showed her the monster behind the mask.” He stops for a beat. “She’ll never forget.”

He walks away, leaving me standing in the silence he’s carved open like a wound.

The monster behind the mask.

And I have no idea how to put it back on.

Chapter Thirteen

Francesca

Dante is behaving strangely and not in a way that eases my nerves. It’s the kind of strange that makes my skin prickle with unease. The kind that feels like the calm before something brutal.

He’s…nice.

Not just in front of the children but even when they’re out of earshot. Polite. Almost gentle. And I don’t know what to make of it. I keep my distance as much as I can, avoidinghim like it’s a matter of survival. It feels like one. But in those unavoidable moments when we cross paths, brief exchanges over breakfast, a passing glance in the hallway, he watches me. Quiet. Intent.

Like he’s trying to see beneath my skin, into the marrow of me, searching for the truth I haven’t told. As if he’s still waiting for me to betray him again. As if he doesn’t know I no longer have it in me.

The only things keeping me breathing now are the children and the fragile hope that one day, Dante will grow tired of having a nanny as a wife. That he’ll find a woman who suits his world better, someone who fits the role in public and private, and when that happens… maybe he’ll let me go.

It’s all I have left to cling to. That quiet, desperate hope that one day he’ll be done punishing me. And that when he is, I’ll finally be free.

The children are starting school in a couple of days, which means I’ll have to find a way to occupy myself. Maybe this is when he’ll start giving me more maid duty or, worse… treat me more like his whore.

He hasn’t initiated anything since our wedding night three weeks ago. Not even a touch. And somehow, that feels worse. Like a sword hanging over my head, its blade gleaming, waiting to fall.

Maybe I was such a poor fuck he decided I wasn’t worth the effort. I don’t know why, but the thought stings.

“Papa!”

Lucia’s voice pulls me from the spiral in my head. I glance up just in time to see her launch herself into Dante’swaiting arms.

I set my paintbrush down and watch them, heart aching with something I can’t name. I’m happy for her, truly—but a part of me throbs deep in my chest. The part I keep buried. The little girl I used to be, still somewhere inside me, small and suffocating.

I didn’t grow up wanting perfection. I just wanted to be seen. To be held without fear. To speak without flinching. But the world got too heavy, too sharp, too loud. And my voice went quiet. Muted.

But I remember her. And when I look at Lucia, I fight for her. Because if she gets to keep even a small piece of the light I lost, then maybe that girl inside me hasn’t been diminished completely.

“We’re all ready for school,” Lucia announces proudly.

“Is that right?” Dante replies, but he’s not looking at her when he says it. He’s looking at me.

And I can’t hold his gaze for long.

Because if I keep looking, I won’t see just the father, the man pretending to have decency. If I look a little longer, I’ll see the other version. The one who spit in my face. The one who held a gun to my head and called me a whore.

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