Valentina POV
The morning of my engagement began with Adriano hammering on my bedroom door like a man trying to alert a city under siege.
I opened one eye and glared at the ceiling.
Then the banging came again.
“Valentina.”
I didn’t move.
“Vale.”
Still nothing.
“Open the door.”
I pulled the blanket over my head.
The handle turned.
Of course it did.
Because no lock in this house had ever stopped Adriano when he was in older brother mode, and apparently, my privacy remained a deeply optional concept to him.
The door opened.
I heard his footsteps cross the room, then the curtains being yanked apart in one swift, merciless motion.
Sunlight flooded my bedroom.
I made a noise of pure hatred and buried my face deeper into the pillow.
“Get up,” Adriano said.
“No.”
“It’s noon.”
