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 ...