I wince. “Harvey brought it back.”

I feel bad throwing Harvey under the bus, but he’s way less likely to get locked in a cage if Mr. Morelli hates store-bought Parmesan as much as Zia Teresa.

“Put it in the trash,” Eli snaps. “Harvey can drive to the deli for parmigiano.”

He pulls out his phone and taps a message. A text to Adriano ordering him to strangle me for insulting their heritage? What possessed me to make Italian food in the house of an Italian prince? Why didn’t I just ask Harvey for a burger?

Eli shoves his phone back into his suit jacket and looks me over. “You’re filthy. And your dress is ruined.”

“I know. I’m sorry but—”

“Can your meal wait another hour?”

I blink. “Um, of course. It gets better the longer it simmers.”

“Good. Go clean yourself up. I’ll bring you a new dress and we’ll eat at seven.”

“You mean me and the guards?”

His mouth curves upward. “I mean all of us. There are things the five of us need to discuss.”

My stomach twists. Five means Adriano. I don’t know his opinions on Italian food, but I really don’t want to offend him. “Maybe you can eat without me? Or I can serve you and eat in the kitchen?”

Doc laughs. “See? Told you she wants to be our maid.”

Eli raises a brow. “Is that true, bella? Do you want to serve us?”

It’s my moment to say yes. To take the first step into becoming a useful, invisible nobody. But as I look into Eli’s amber eyes, I think of the rubies he once offered me. The ones I would see around the neck of his Italian wife.

“Um, no. Not really. I mean, not like that.”

“I see.”

“Pricktease,” Doc says. “I wanted that uniform.”

Eli points to the kitchen door. “Leave now, Miss Whitehall. Go make yourself pretty for us.”

The sentence echoes in my head as I wander the halls trying to find my way back to my bedroom. ‘Go make yourself pretty for us.’

Us, as in all of them. Does that mean Eli knows about me and Doc and Bobby? He didn’t seem upset to find Doc about to kiss me. Could they have already told him what we’d done? That seems impossible, but they did plan on sleeping with me in front of each other last night. They had bets on who would go first. The skin on the back of my neck tightens. Is this a thing men do? Share one woman between them? I imagine asking Zia Teresa and all I see is her taking off her slipper and whacking me with it. I could ask Margot or Penelope maybe if they were here, and we’d all been drinking.

“Oof!”

I’ve walked right into a wall. I look up grinning to find Adriano Rossi glaring down at me. I open my mouth to apologize but before I can speak, his tattooed hand shoots out and closes around my throat. He pins me against the paneled wall.