Lucia’s POV
The moment I stepped out of that conference room, I sucked in a shaky breath. But it did little to steady the pounding in my chest. The murmurs of the reporters faded, but I could still feel Dante’s sharp and cold gaze on me.
I had made a terrible mistake challenging him in front of his people, and in front of the media. I knew the rules. Knew what it meant to speak out of turn, to embarrass a man like him. Yet, I had done it anyway, unable to hold my tongue when they dragged my father’s name through the mud.
“My father is innocent.” I could still hear my own voice echoing in my head.
Foolish.
I had barely made it down the hall when I heard heavy footsteps behind me. My breath caught as a firm grip closed around my wrist, yanking me into an empty room before I could react.
