Breakfast In The Palazzo Novels & Stories

Today is a new day with new beginnings, so let us see what lies ahead. I got out of bed, showered in the bathroom, changed into an off-shoulder blue floral gown and white sandals, and then went downstairs to the kitchen. There will not be any need to serve me in my room because I know my way around now. There was already breakfast in the dining room, with pastries like Italian croissants (cornetto) and double-baked toast (fette biscottate) topped with jam and honey and served with cappuccino or espresso on the table.

she said. "What sort of blasphemy is that, Alessia?" Marcello began pulling his sister away from his mother's arms. He flashed his megawatt smile to the older woman and said, "You always look gorgeous, darlin'," kissing her both cheeks. Rosa chuckled. "Quit teasing your sister, Marcello. Bambi, come and have a seat; I made your favorites." Alessia glanced at the breakfast table to notice the hearty Sicilian Sunrise: crispy French toast stuffed with creamy cannoli filling, topped with caramelized bananas and a drizzle of maple syrup.

I squeeze my thighs together and force my eyes away. “Good morning, princess.” “Morning,” I mutter. I keep my voice cold. Flat. I won’t let his looks erase what he said last night. I meant nothing. Just business. I need to remember that. My eyes drop to the tray. Cannoli. Warm sfogliatelle. A cornetto split open, Nutella spilling out. My stomach growls loudly. Too loudly. Heat rushes to my face. “Breakfast in bed?” He nods toward the tangled sheets.

she whispered, “then I’ll play too.” The banquet was held at Palazzo Fiorelli, a grand estate on the edge of Lake Como. The palace was famous for its marble halls and wide gardens, glowing that night under crystal chandeliers. Music from violins filled the air as guests in fine gowns and suits mingled under painted ceilings. Isabella and Sophia arrived with their grandmother, Beatrice, in a sleek black car. Matteo and Vivienne followed behind in another. As soon as they stepped out, the red carpet was lined with clapping guests and flashing cameras.

My lips tilt up as I turn around, but the moment my eyes catch Vivienne and Renzo watching me, the smile falls into a flat line. “Boss,” Renzo salutes me with a knowing smile plastered on his face, and Vivienne mimics him. Ten minutes later, we are all seated at a small dining table, staring down at a very American breakfast. The eggs are rubbery, the toast is burnt, and there isn’t a fresh ingredient in sight. Very typical. I catch Renzo and Elara grimacing every now and then, but no one complains. When we are done, Renzo clears the plates to the sink.

“Although I’ll tell you, if we were going to have a Luna, I’m glad it was you. Somebody that understands what it's like to work hard and have somebody give respect rather than demand respect.” I poked at the breakfast blob and egg spread—far more fanciful than any tastebomb I'd had beyond the House walls. Fresh fruit, warm bread drizzled with honey, eggs in three variations. It seemed over the top, wasteful, when I knew how much work preparing such a meal required. But I was hungry after the shift and fight, so I ate as I listened to the sounds of the palace waking. Voices outside were murmuring about what had happened yesterday.

“Morning, Bella. Thought I’d swing by and remind your husband who the real cook is.” Vincenzo smirked, still watching the pan. “He’s just here for the free breakfast. Don’t let him fool you.” “Well,” I said with a laugh, leaning against the counter, “if it smells this good, I’ll let you two fight over who gets the credit. What’s cooking?” Lorenzo chuckled, flipping a perfectly golden pancake onto a plate. “Breakfast of champions. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and a side of my unbeatable charm.”

"Arian left you a note on the table in the hallway." "That's okay." I shake my head. My stomach growls and I wince because it hardly ever does that. I eat before I get really hungry but after I got back from the hospital last night, I was too upset to eat a late dinner. "Breakfast is served sir." Kelly informs me. "It's Spaghetti Bolognese for breakfast." "Theresa went all out, huh?" I grin. "She says she likes trying new things." Kelly smiles. "You'll love it sir."

Passing through the living room, she saw Elio sitting at the dining table with two plates of breakfast and two glasses of milk in front of him. "Good morning," Candice said nervously as she approached. "I didn't hear the alarm. I'm sorry. Is there any work planned for today?" Elio, with his usual calm demeanor, gestured to the plate opposite him. "I made an extra portion. Join me for breakfast." He made this? Candice looked at the breakfast in surprise. There was a peeled and sliced egg, some blanched broccoli, a pancake, and some fruits. It looked both exquisite and healthy but was presented quite plainly, certainly not the work of a hotel chef.