It was morning, and Rhea was lying in her big bed alone. She was awake as soon as the morning light came into the room through the curtains, not that she even got enough sleep the night before.
Rhea could not sleep because she kept tossing and turning in bed. Her mind was cluttered with different thoughts, and she ruminated on everything that had happened the previous day.
At her late father’s funeral, the man who, despite sending her into enemy territory under the guise of marriage, was the sole parent she knew. She did not know who her mother was, and every time she asked Enrico, he said her mother ran away to America and never returned.
Maybe if she had a maternal figure in her life, she would know how to tread this marriage to get what she wants. Maybe if she were there, Dante would
