Chapter 57~Family Hostile

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Donatella POV:

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Donatella POV:

"Enzo," I said, and tilted my head a little to the side, "do you *always* hold people hostage before breakfast, or am I just special?"

His eye twitched.

A good sign.

"You think this is funny?" he snapped. "You broke into Leonardo's office. You had *that*-" he jabbed the air toward Luca's hands, toward the burner computer, "-in your room. And this asshole-" a nod at Amir, "-was trying to cover for you."

"I didn't break in," I said with a bored shrug. "I *borrowed* the lock."

Gino signed something fast and sharp.

Luca blinked. "He said 'stop being smart and explain now.'"

"Tell Gino I'm not being smart," I muttered. "I'm being *me.*"

Nicolo stepped closer, arms folded, his cocky stance practically radiating heat and judgment. "We're not playing this game with you. We know you're hiding something. So either you start explaining-"

"-or we call papa and Leonardo right now," Enzo finished, phone already halfway out of his pocket.

"Wait," I said, my voice flat. "Fine."

They all stopped.

Even Amir tensed beside me.

I felt it, the way his thigh shifted slightly against mine. He turned his head a bit to glance at me, eyes flashing the smallest question. Are you about to tell them?

I wasn't.

Hell no.

But I needed time.

I needed space.

And most of all-I needed their attention *off* him.

I sighed like I was finally giving in and sat up straighter. "Okay. You want the truth?" I looked directly at Enzo. "We were trying to get information."

"From Leo?" Enzo barked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I'll get there," I said, slowly reaching one hand behind Amir's back like I was shifting on the bed. My fingers brushed against the ropes tying his wrists. They were tight, but not too tight. Lazy job, Nicolo. Sloppy. "But I can't exactly *focus* while you've got a gun in my face."

Enzo hesitated.

"Put it down," I said calmly, staring up at him with dead eyes. "Unless you actually want to shoot me in the head and explain *that* to Leonardo. Go ahead. Do it. Let's see how that works out."

Another pause.

Then-he lowered the gun slightly, muttering a curse under his breath.

Good.

𝔄𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔞 𝔇𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔞 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔢Where stories live. Discover now