Adriana wasn’t sure what unnerved her more—the way Eleanor Sinclair had so effortlessly placed her in the spotlight or the fact that Marco had let it happen.
The car ride back to the penthouse was tense. The air between them crackled with unsaid words. Marco’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles slightly pale from the pressure. Unlike before, he hadn’t hired a driver tonight. Maybe he needed control over something, anything, after what had just happened.
Adriana stared out the window, her thoughts spinning. She called me the future Mrs. Romano. She practically handed me power I never asked for. But why?
She finally broke the silence. “You’re mad.”
Marco let out a humorless chuckle. “Mad? No. Irritated? Yes.”
She turned to him. “Because I didn’t deny it?”
He didn’t look
