IZABELLA
There wasn’t a spectre of surprise on his features.
I flinched. “Is it true?”
His gaze flicked to mine.
I almost flinched.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
His eyes were steady. Heavy. “I initially concluded you wouldn't want to be burdened with such depravity. Until I realized otherwise, but then the reality of it is still a lot to handle.”
I shook my head. “And what, you thought hiding it was better?”
He shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t about hiding. It was about timing.”
I stared at the man in front of me—his strikingly fair hair, the sharp angles of his face, the intense look in his eyes.
And all I could see was that portrait now.
The one in the study. The one I used to admire because he looked like Ignazio. But I had no idea what that resemblance truly meant.
“I n
