Chapter 91 -
“Good.” Gabriel pulled back to look up at her, his face serious. “Will you come out of your room now? Everyone is worried about you. Rosa keeps making your favorite foods. Matteo keeps pacing outside your door. And Uncle Mikey asked me to check on you because he said you might listen to me since I am cute and non-threatening.”
“Uncle Mikey said that?” Nia asked.
“Well, he said adorable and harmless, but I think that means the same thing,” Gabriel said. He grabbed Nia’s hand, tugging on it hopefully. “So will you come out? Please?”
Nia looked down at his hopeful face, at the trust and affection shining in his eyes, and felt her resolve waver. How could she stay hidden when this sweet boy was asking her to be brave?
But then she thought about facing Leo. About seeing him across the breakfast table or in the hallway or anywhere in this house. About the way he would look at her with those cold, controlled eyes and pretend that nothing had happened between them.
“I cannot,” she said softly. “Not yet.”
Gabriel’s face fell. “Why not?”
“Because sometimes when feelings get really tangled, you need time to untangle them,” Nia explained. “And right now, mine are still too knotted up for me to face the person who tangled them.”
“Uncle Nardo,” Gabriel said, like he was confirming a theory.
“Uncle Leo,” Nia agreed.
Gabriel was quiet for a long moment, his little face scrunched up in thought. Then he climbed onto Nia’s lap, settling himself comfortably like he had done it a hundred times before.
“That is okay,” he said finally. “You can stay here and untangle your feelings. But I am going to stay with you while you do it. Because feeling-untangling is hard and nobody should have to do hard things alone.”
Nia’s throat tightened. She wrapped her arms around Gabriel, holding him close, and felt something crack open in her chest. This boy, this sweet, innocent five-year-old who saw the world in terms of hugs and drawings and stuffed animals named Mr. Whiskers, was offering her exactly what she needed.
Someone to sit with her in the darkness and remind her that she was not alone.
“Okay,” she whispered. “You can stay.”
“Good,” Gabriel said. He leaned back against her chest, making himself comfortable. “Can I tell you about the frog I found in the garden yesterday? Uncle Nardo said I could not keep him but I named him anyway. His name is Sir Hopsalot.”
And as Gabriel launched into an elaborate story about Sir Hopsalot the frog and his adventures in the garden, Nia felt her heart break just a little bit more.
Not for herself this time.
But for this boy who loved his uncle so much that he made excuses for him. Who had learned at five years old that feelings got tangled and people got sad and sometimes the people you loved hurt you without meaning to.
Gabriel deserved better than growing up in a house where love was complicated and dangerous and tangled up with grief and guilt.
But then again, so did Nia.
And right now, sitting in bed with a five-year-old telling her stories about a frog while her heart was still broken and her feelings were still impossibly tangled, this was the best either of them were going to get.# Chapter 89
The shadow appeared in the doorway sometime after Gabriel had finally been retrieved by his frantic nanny. Nia had watched the boy go with a mixture of relief and regret, his cheerful voice echoing down the hallway as he explained in great detail about Sir Hopsalot the frog and why frogs made excellent pets despite what Uncle Nardo said.
Now the room was quiet again. Too quiet. The kind of silence that pressed against Nia’s ears and made her too aware of her own breathing.
The shadow moved, stepping into the light that spilled through the open door. Lucia stood there in a different dress than the one she had worn that morning. This one was deep burgundy, the color of old wine, fitted perfectly to her curves in a way that suggested she had somewhere important to be. Or maybe she just refused to look anything less than immaculate even when visiting a heartbroken prisoner.
“Gabriel told me you were still hiding,” Lucia said. She did not ask permission to enter. She just walked in like she owned the place, which, technically, she did. Or at least she had married into the family that owned it.
Nia did not answer. She just watched Lucia cross the room, her heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that sounded almost like a countdown. Click. Click. Click.
Lucia stopped at the foot of the bed, studying Nia with those sharp dark eyes that saw too much. “You look terrible.”
“Thank you,” Nia said. Her voice came out flat, emotionless. “That is exactly what every woman wants to hear.”
“I did not come here to lie to you,” Lucia said. She moved to the chair by the window, the same one Rosa had occupied earlier, and sat down with the kind of grace that made even simple movements look choreographed. “If you wanted comforting lies, you should have kept Gabriel around. That boy would tell you that you look like a princess even if you were covered in mud.”
“He is five,” Nia pointed out. “Five-year-olds are supposed to be kind.”
“Five-year-olds are supposed to be honest,” Lucia corrected. She crossed her legs, smoothing down her dress. “They have not learned yet that sometimes the truth hurts more than lies. But Gabriel is also a DeSanto, which means he has been learning since birth how to read a room and say what people need to hear.”
Nia pulled her knees closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “What are you doing here, Lucia?”
“Checking on you,” Lucia said simply. “Rosa said you refused breakfast. Gabriel said you are sad because Uncle Nardo tangled your feelings. And the house staff has been whispering about how the Enforcer was seen pacing his room at four in the morning, which he only does when something is seriously wrong.”
“I do not want to talk about him,” Nia said.
“Good,” Lucia said. “Because I did not come here to talk about Leonardo. I came here to sit with you while you pretend that you are fine.”
Nia stared at her. “That makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Lucia said. She leaned back in the chair, making herself comfortable. “You are not ready to talk yet. I understand that. But you also should not be alone. So I am going to sit here and talk about absolutely nothing important while you decide whether or not you want to engage with the world again.”
“I do not need a babysitter,” Nia said.
“No,” Lucia agreed. “But you do need a friend. And since Michael is not here and Gabriel just left and Rosa has actual work to do, you are stuck with me.”
Nia wanted to argue. She wanted to tell Lucia to leave, to take her expensive dress and her sharp observations and her unwanted company somewhere else. But the truth was that having someone else in the room made the silence less oppressive. Made the walls feel less like they were closing in.
So she did not say anything. She just stayed curled up on the bed, watching Lucia settle into the chair like she planned to stay for a while.