Chapter 69. Breakfast, Interrupted

The kitchen was quiet when Margherita padded in. The morning light spilled through the wide windows, pale and cold, catching the faint steam from the coffee machine. The clock on the wall already edged toward ten.

Everyone else was gone.

Rosa looked up from the counter and smiled knowingly. “Well, buongiorno, sleeping beauty.”

Margherita groaned softly as she sat at the table. “I overslept.”

“Mh-hm.” Rosa slid a steaming cup of coffee toward her. “And so did he.”

Margherita froze just as the footsteps sounded in the hall.

Ezio appeared—sleeves rolled up, dark shirt open at the throat, hair disheveled in that careless way that made her pulse skip.

“Morning,” he murmured, voice still rough with sleep.

“Morning,” she managed.

Rosa placed a plate in front of her, then another for him, her smile knowing. “Eat, both of you. You look like you’ve been up too late doing… whatever it is you two do.”

Margherita flushed s