Page 13 of Lorenzo

Plates pass from hand to hand. Coffee is poured. Someone asks for the bread. Matteo and Tomasso argue over who took the last piece of bacon, and Dante tells them both to stop acting like children, while holding baby sister Cecilia in his arms.

Mario shifts Leonardo against his shoulder while Victoria pours him coffee. Julia talks to Diego about something to do with work while Ricardo adds more eggs to her plate.

It looks ordinary.

For a few minutes, it almost sounds ordinary.

But there is only one thing on anyone’s mind.

Alessio sits across from me with a plate he has barely touched. He answers when someone speaks directly to him, but only with a word or two. His coffee disappears faster than his food.

That alone tells me how badly this has shaken him.

My youngest son has never struggled to fill silence. He can talk his way into a room, out of a problem, and through anyone’s better judgment. This morning, he keeps his eyes on the table.

Edoardo sits beside him, quiet in a different way. More of his usual way. His attention moves around the table, watching everyone and giving nothing away.

Diego asks Ricardo something about the coffee. Tomasso reaches for the bread. Victoria murmurs to Leonardo when he begins to stir in his father’s arms.

Then Alessio lifts his cup.

He takes a slow drink and sets it down.

“I did not kill her.”

Every conversation stops.

No one reaches for another plate. Even the small sounds from the babies seem louder in the silence.

Alessio looks around the table before his eyes settle on me.

“I met her at the club earlier tonight,” he says.

His voice is steady, but his hand remains wrapped around the coffee cup.

“What happened?” I ask.

He draws a breath.

“It was immediate. The attraction.” He glances down for a moment, searching for the right words. “She was sexy. Seductive. There was something about her.”

Tomasso leans back slightly in his chair. Dante’s expression tightens, though he says nothing.

“We started talking,” Alessio continues. “We hit it off quickly.”

I have questions, but I know he needs to tell it in his own way.

“Yes, we went back to the hotel together,” Alessio says. “I’m not denying that. I was with her. I left when I did because I was on duty this morning.”

He lifts his eyes and seems to realize that everyone in the family is at the table, and he probably shouldn't go into too much detail about what his duty was.

Mario watches him from the other end of the table, one hand resting near Victoria’s chair.

“So you left when you… finished,” Ricardo says.

“Yes.” Alessio nods. “But we were going to meet again. Tonight.”

Julia lowers her fork. She is an attorney as well, but not a criminal attorney. However, she would still be familiar with just how serious this situation is.