Brianna’s POV
The house is quiet. Too quiet.
Everyone is gone, Matteo at some meeting, Luca drilling the guards, Silvio somewhere scheming. Even the servants tread softer today, the echo of their steps fading quickly down the marble halls.
I am left alone in the silence. Alone with the ache that hasn’t eased since that night, the fire in my shoulder fading even as the fire inside me grows unbearable.
And then the door opens.
I stiffen, the book in my lap slipping forgotten onto the couch. My pulse spikes before I even see him.
He fills the doorway like a shadow, tall, immovable, eyes fixed on me with a weight that strips the breath from my chest. He doesn’t move at first, doesn’t speak, and the silence stretches until anger flares hot in my veins.
“Four days,” I bite out, standing,
