Chapter 149 – Daphne POV
My mother wants to meet me?
That alone is suspicious.
We barely speak. She's always too busy playing porcelain queen to her golden boy, Tommaso, in their weirdly clingy, vaguely Victorian dynamic that makes the air go stale every time they're in a room together.
But fine. I've survived worse than awkward maternal summons.
I step into the drawing room, where a small table has been prepared—china, tea service, little pastries arranged like they were measured with a ruler.
And there she is.
The infamous Mrs. Castellano.
Even now, with her age softened by time, she's still breathtaking. Hair styled into perfect glossy waves, a string of pearls nestled at her throat like a noose disguised as elegance. She looks like the ghost of old money. The kind men would kill for. The kind men did kill for.
I take a seat across from her, legs crossed.
"This is a surprise," I say dryly.
