I didn’t sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Matteo’s smirk, Enzo’s silent stare, and Lorenzo’s voice echoing in my head.
“Don’t we?”
I hated how it made my thighs clench.
By morning, the red robe was crumpled on the floor like the guilt I tried to ignore. I dressed quickly—tight jeans and a long-sleeved black crop top, hoping armor made of denim and cotton would keep their eyes off me.
It didn’t.
I barely made it to the breakfast table before Matteo tilted his chair back and let out a low whistle. “D*mn, sis. That top’s hanging on for dear life.”
Lorenzo didn’t look up from his black coffee. “Control yourself.”
Enzo raised his eyes from the newspaper, but said nothing. He just watched.
I sat across from them, trying to pretend my face wasn’t on fire. “Is there a reason you’
