The Threat
Her phone vibrated against the table.
She glanced at the screen — her face barely shifted, but I saw it. She stood up.
“I can’t hear here. I’m stepping out.”
I rose instantly.
“I’m coming with you.”
But she stopped me with a gentle gesture. A look, a small smile.
“Stay. I’ll be quick.”
And she disappeared between the tables, crossing the terrace overlooking Palermo, the wind in her hair.
I watched her for a moment, then turned back to the other two.
And then… I spoke.
“I’ve got a question.”
Matteo lifted his head, attentive.
Lorenzo froze mid-gesture.
I breathed.
“I’m thinking of putting a ring on her finger.”
Silence. Then a smile. Then a visible shift in their eyes.
“Not too soon,” Matteo muttered, already leaning toward me.
Lorenzo, though, nodded slowly. With an emotion I’d never seen in him.
“You serious? You really want to commit to her? For real?”
“I’m serious. I’m ready. She… she wrecks me, she puts me in my place, she drives me insane. But without her, I don’t breathe anymore. So yeah. I want it. If she does.”
Lorenzo took a beat.
“Then do it. But do it seeing who she really is. With her wounds, her secrets, her scars. And especially… with what you’ll never fully know.”
I stared at him.
He smiled.
“But if you want my opinion… it’s the first time in years I’ve seen her this alive. Maybe it’s you. Or maybe it’s the fact she’s finally letting herself love. But she’s beautiful enough to kill like that.”
Matteo raised his glass.
“To Hope, then.”
We toasted.
And she came back.
I saw her before she reached us.
She walked like always. Elegant, calm.
But her eyes weren’t the same.
There was that slight crease at the corner. The kind of detail a normal eye wouldn’t catch.
Except I wasn’t a normal eye. I was her brother. I’d known her as a kid, a survivor, a fighter. I knew how to read what stirred under her disguise.
She sat down. Smiled. Slipped back into the conversation like a queen.
But I’d already clocked the alert.
I hid everything. The call. The voice on the other end. The words he’d used.
I didn’t want it to ruin this night.
But I knew it wouldn’t hold.
Not for long. Not with Lorenzo looking at me like that.
Later, outside the restaurant
I gently caught her arm as Alessandro and Matteo were already heading for the car.
“You’ve got five seconds to tell me what happened.”
She tried to smile, to play.
But my stare stopped her.
And she sighed. Quietly.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“You’re gonna panic,” I murmured.
“I’m already panicking, Jones. Talk.”
I took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the cobblestones of the parking lot. Alessandro’s car was running, Matteo at the wheel. He thought I was just chatting with Lorenzo about trivial stuff.
But what I was about to say was anything but trivial.
“The call. Unknown number. Masked voice. He said if I don’t leave Alessandro… he’ll kill him.”
Silence.
Lorenzo stared at me. A glacial flash went through his eyes.
“You sure it wasn’t some bad joke? Some drunk?”
“He knew my name. Called me by my old name. My real name.”
His face changed. Right then he understood.
This wasn’t a game.
“Hope… you have to tell him.”
“I will. But I needed to tell you first. Just… to breathe. To hear it out loud.”
He nodded. Calmly.
And he didn’t leave my side all the way back to the villa.
Once home, I didn’t waste a second. I kicked off my heels, crossed the living room and grabbed the whisky bottle. My hands trembled a little, so Lorenzo took over and poured me a glass. One. Which I downed in one go.
Alessandro entered, Matteo behind him, but he froze seeing my posture.
The stare on the glass. The clenched jaw. The contracted fingers.
He understood immediately.
“Tell me.”
I raised my eyes. And for once, I didn’t fight him. I told him the truth.
“I got a threat. Tonight. Leaving the restaurant.”
He stepped closer slowly, tense but listening.
“What kind?”
I drained a second glass.
“If I stay with you, you die. They called me by my old name, Alessandro. The one I buried in New York.”
A beat. His eyes went black. Not panic. Icy control.
“You know who?”
“Not yet. But he knew things he shouldn’t.”
Lorenzo straightened, crossed his arms, his stare locked on Alessandro.
“She trusted you. Don’t betray that with rage.”
And Alessandro answered without raising his voice:
“I’m not raging. Not yet. But believe me… it won’t take long.”
He pulled out his phone.
“I’m putting Marco on it. Now. And I want you to stay here, Hope. Not out of fear. Strategy.”
I nodded. My heart beat too fast.
But one thing struck me in his eyes.
He’d never been this calm. This sure. This protective.
And for the first time in a long while… I felt safe.