Lissy Romano

14| Scared little girl.

Lissy Romano

Enzo's gaze snapped to me, completely different from the joking, kind guy I had just seen moments before. This wasn't the same playful brother; he now exuded the same cold energy as Dante. His eyes pierced through me, and I could feel the pressure mounting.

"I asked what friend?" Enzo's voice was sharp, a harsh contrast to his previous warmth. His stare was intense, demanding an answer.

I froze. What should I say? Should I tell him about Jose? What would change if they knew?

"Your brother asked you a question." Vincenzo's deep, commanding voice cut through the tension.

"Why does that matter? Just a friend..." I mumbled, looking down at my plate, hoping they'd drop the topic.

"Name?" Matteo asked, his voice equally serious, cutting into the silence. Wait—he too? What happened to the funny brothers I had just met? It seemed like they were all adopting Dante's and Vincenzo's cold energy now.

"Jose." I closed my eyes, regretting my decision already.

"That fucker... Only fuckboys read that book," Enzo spat, his jaw tightening.

Does that mean Matteo's a fuckboy? What were they even talking about? Why was this such a big deal?

"Then why was Matteo reading it?" I blurted, frustration bubbling inside me.

"We ask the questions. You answer. Understood?" Vincenzo's tone was more menacing now, his fist clenched in a silent warning. What the hell was going on?

"You'll never contact him again," Enzo growled, eyes darkened with anger.

"Even if I wanted to, I can't. Vincenzo took my phone," I shot back, feeling my patience thinning. Why couldn't they just leave me alone?

"Good." Matteo added, his face blank and unreadable. It was starting to feel like I wasn't sitting at a family dinner but under interrogation.

I could feel Davide's hand gently squeezing mine under the table, a subtle sign of support. I needed that now more than ever.

"How close were you two?" Enzo's voice was low and unrelenting.

What did that even mean? How close? We were best friends since childhood.

"Close..." I muttered, not sure how to explain it to them, and certainly not wanting them to think what I assumed they thought.

"Did you ever sleep with him?" Vincenzo asked, his words dripping with judgment.

I didn't respond right away, his gaze already making me feel small, ashamed.

"No. Of course not. We were friends... since childhood." I said, louder now, my voice tinged with irritation.

Vincenzo exhaled a long sigh, and the silence that followed felt suffocating. They all just stared at me, but Davide kept squeezing my hand, silently telling me everything would be okay.

"Good," Vincenzo said, breaking the silence, as he grabbed a slice of pizza.

We all ate in quiet discomfort. I focused on my food, not meeting anyone's eyes—except Davide's. He seemed to be the only one who didn't look at me like I was a problem.