Page 58 of Of Lies and Shadows

I drop my eyes and turn away, starting to pack up the painting materials.

“Yes. We went to get all the supplies after the school orientation.”

“Where’s Alessio?”

“In the salon,” I say, and despite myself, I smile faintly. “He’s preparing for his next pirate mission.”

“Ah.” Dante’s tone softens a notch. “And who is thismission against?”

I hesitate, the answer on my tongue, but I bite it back. I’m not here to amuse him. I’m not here for anything except the children.

“Cece!” Lucia pipes up brightly. “She’s gonna be the queen mermaid! Chasing him from her sea.”

Dante arches a brow. “So, you’re a queen now?”

“Only in the fictional realm,” I reply coolly, keeping my tone light, my smile controlled. “I know my place.”

The words land. I see it in the way his mouth tightens and his jaw ticks.

I force myself to remember. The pressure of his fingers on my face. The sting. The heat. The spit.

I reach up reflexively, wiping the corner of my cheek, and I know the moment he registers the gesture. His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken. He knows exactly what memory I’ve just brought to the surface.

“Lucia,” he says quietly, still watching me. “Why don’t you go help your brother plan his attack? I need to speak with Cece.”

I don't like him calling me Cece. He has no right to do so.

Lucia hesitates, looking between us, but I paste on a soft smile and nod at her. “Go on, little fish. Your pirate needs you.”

She darts off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor, and suddenly, the room feels colder.

He steps forward, and I brace myself. The silence between us stretches, heavy and charged.

He stays where he is for a moment, like he’s unsure howto start. His jaw works, then stills. Finally, he takes another step closer.

“I just wanted to say… you’ve been doing a good job. With the children.”

I don’t answer. Just nod once and keep my eyes on the brushes I’m cleaning, the movements deliberate and methodical.

“They’re happy,” he continues, his voice lower now. “They feel safe. That’s because of you.”

Still, I say nothing. I keep tidying, keeping my hands busy when everything else inside me is anything but.

Another step. “Francesca.” Softer this time. Almost… tentative. “Can we talk?”

“I thought we were,” I reply, flat and clipped, still not meeting his gaze.

He exhales slowly, and I feel the frustration in it even more than I hear it. “Not like this.”

Finally, I glance up just for a second. “Ah, of course,” I say coolly.

His posture shifts, a flicker of relief on his face, but it’s short-lived. I reach into my bag and pull out a folded stack of papers, setting them on the counter between us like a shield.

“These are the required purchases for the children,” I say. “It’s a lot for a first year, if you ask me, but I suppose it makes sense for an elite school.”

“That’s not?—”

“I used the card you provided,” I continue, cutting him off. “But only for the children. Nothing personal. Everything falls within the limits you set.”

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