The soft clinking of silverware was the only sound that punctuated the tense silence between us.
I sat across from Mr. Alfonzo, a knot of anxiety twisting in my stomach.
Each time I glanced up, I found his gaze unwavering, sharp as a blade, dissecting every movement, every flicker of emotion.
With each moment that passed, my pulse quickened, but I forced myself to appear calm.
He finally broke the silence, setting down his glass with deliberate care.
"Maria," he began, his voice low and measured. "I have to admit, I'm finding it rather difficult to understand where your loyalty truly lies."
His words were like a punch to the gut.
My fingers tightened around my fork, but I kept my face composed.
"Mr. Alfonzo, I assure you, I'm loyal to the family," I replied, forcing my voice to remain steady.
He tilted his head slightly, studying me with curiosity.
