Adriana turned to me slowly, her eyes filling with hurt, her expression trembling just enough to look real. Her fingers drifted to the pearl at her throat again, holding it like a woman afraid of being struck next.
"Miss Vitale…" she said softly, her voice fragile, "I don't know what I did to upset you."
She lowered her gaze slightly, like she was holding back tears.
"If you have a problem with me, please… just take it out on me. Don't drag innocent people into this…"
Whispers began to spread.
Low voices. Judging. Speculating.
I could feel it.
The weight of every stare pressing against my back. In a place like this, where half the room owed something to the Bellomo name, public opinion wasn't just opinion. It was verdict.
Salvatore turned toward me, his expression darkening instantly.
"What are you standing there for?" he snapped, his voice sharp and cold. "Apologize. Now."
His tone left no room for argument.
"Stop making a scene."
Like I was the problem.
Like I was the one who had embarrassed him.
Like I was the one who didn't belong.