Azalea
“Good. I will reward you when we get home.”
“Mr. Giordani!” someone called behind us.
Adriano’s body tensed beside me. When he turned, the warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by something cold and predatory.
“Oh. It is you.”
“It’s nice meeting you here, sir,” the stranger replied, before turning his gaze to me. “And who might this be?”
“My wife.” The pride in Adriano’s voice was fake, but it sounded convincing. “Azalea Amara De Luca.”
My blood turned to ice. Why had he said my full name? It felt like he was marking me, claiming ownership of me in front of everyone.
“Ah, it is Madam.” The man held out his hand, and I forced myself to take it. “It is a real pleasure.”
“The pleasure is mine,” I said, forcing a smile despite the nerves fluttering in my chest.
“Enough with
