The villa’s air felt heavier after Damian’s warning.
Adriana sat in the parlor, wrists aching where Luca’s grip had bruised her the night before. She had slept little, haunted not by fear of Luca, but by the memory of Damian’s gaze cutting through the dark, his voice wrapping around her like a vow.
You’re mine.
The words should have terrified her. Instead, they gave her breath in the silence.
But by morning, her father’s wrath smothered everything.
“You shame this family with your hesitation,” Enzo thundered, pacing the study. His cane struck the marble floor with each step, sharp as gunfire. “Do you think I don’t hear the whispers? Do you think Naples doesn’t notice your coldness toward Luca? He is your fiancé. Your duty. And you will play the role I command you to.”
Adriana kept he
