CHAPTER ELEVEN
The silence in Luca’s office was suffocating. My pulse thundered in my ears as I stared at him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. He lounged in his chair like this was nothing—like the revelation that he’d known my identity all along was just another business deal.
"Say something, amore," he murmured, amusement flickering in his midnight-blue eyes. "You look like you want to kill me."
"Maybe because I do," I shot back, my voice sharp as a blade.
I moved before I thought better of it, drawing my dagger from its sheath and slamming it into the desk in front of him. The wood splintered, the tip embedding deep, but Luca didn’t even flinch. If anything, his lips curled into a smirk.
"You knew," I hissed. "You knew who I was this entire time and still—still—"
"Still
