The Rose & The Lion

The next morning dawned gray and heavy, the storm clouds still hanging over Milan as though the city itself mourned with her. Lia sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the sunlight filtering weakly through the curtains. Her apartment was quiet—too quiet.

She'd barely slept, her mind replaying the events of the previous day like a cruel movie on loop. The sound of Dante's voice, cold and accusing, echoed in her ears. Betrayal. He'd said it with such certainty, as though he'd forgotten every promise they'd made, every moment they'd shared.

A sharp knock at the door startled her from her thoughts. She stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her oversized sweater as she walked to the door.

"Lia!" came a familiar voice from the other side.

Her heart sank. It was Alessio, her eldest brother.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to find him standing there in a crisp gray suit, his expression a mix of anger and concern. Behind him stood their younger brother, Marco, dressed in a tailored jacket that screamed high fashion, his arms crossed and his usual playful smirk absent.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to mask the exhaustion in her voice.

Alessio stepped inside, his eyes narrowing as he scanned her face. "What do you think we're doing here? Marco called me last night. Said you weren't answering your phone."

Marco followed, shutting the door behind him. "You worried us, Lia. You don't just disappear like that."

Lia sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "I'm fine. I just needed some time alone."

"Alone?" Alessio's voice rose, and his hands clenched at his sides. "Lia, you look like you haven't slept. Something happened."

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. They'd always been protective, especially Alessio, who'd practically raised her after their parents died. But she couldn't tell them—not yet.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said softly, turning away.

"Lia," Alessio's tone softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "If this is about Dante—"

"It's over, okay?" she snapped, stepping out of his reach. Her voice cracked despite her best efforts to stay strong. "He wanted a divorce, and I gave him what he wanted. End of story."

Marco let out a low whistle, his usually lighthearted demeanor replaced with something darker. "That bastard. After everything you've done for him?"

"Marco," Alessio warned, but his tone carried the same anger.

Lia crossed her arms, trying to hold herself together. "I don't want to talk about him. Not now. Please."

The brothers exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Alessio nodded. "Fine. But you're not staying here alone. Pack a bag—you're coming with us."

"Alessio, I don't—"

"It's not up for debate," he said firmly. "You're my little sister, Lia. I'm not letting you go through this by yourself."

Later That Evening...

Lia found herself in the sprawling Romano family villa on the outskirts of Milan, a place that had always felt like a sanctuary. The grand estate was surrounded by lush gardens, the air heavy with the scent of blooming roses and lavender.

As she sat on the terrace, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of orange and pink, she felt a momentary sense of peace. But it didn't last.

The weight of her secret pressed heavily on her chest. She glanced down at her hands, resting protectively over her stomach. How long could she keep this from her brothers?

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Marco approach until he set a steaming cup of tea on the table beside her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, sitting across from her.

She shook her head, offering a faint smile. "Nothing worth sharing."

Marco leaned back in his chair, studying her with sharp, assessing eyes. "You know, you're terrible at lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Sure, sorellina. And I'm the pope." He tilted his head, his smirk returning. "Alessio's worried about you, you know. So am I."

"I'm fine," she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.

Marco sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Look, I won't push. But just know that whatever it is, we've got your back. Always."

Lia's throat tightened, and she blinked back the tears threatening to fall. "Thanks, Marco."

He nodded, standing and ruffling her hair like he used to when they were kids. "Get some rest, okay? And if you feel like talking, you know where to find me."

As he walked away, Lia let out a shaky breath. She had always been close to her brothers, but this secret—it was hers alone. For now, at least.

But deep down, she knew the truth wouldn't stay hidden forever.

To Be Continued...