"Answer the question," I demand, patience wearing thin.
Vittoria takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she meets my gaze. "My father is a strict man," she says slowly. "He has high expectations for all of us."
"That's not what I asked," I growl, frustration building. "Has he ever hit you?"
Her silence is all the answer I need. Rage courses through me at the thought of anyone laying a hand on her, especially her own father. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to put them through the nearest wall.
"Cesare," Vittoria says softly, reaching out to touch my arm. "It's not what you think. I'm fine."
I shake off her touch and pace the room as I try to calm myself. "How long?" I demand. "How long has this been going on?"
Vittoria sighs, sinking into one of the leather chairs. "It doesn't matter," she admits quietly. "It's just how he is."
Her words make my anger worse. I know she's not going to admit to anything more. She's been trained to protect him, to minimize his abuse.
I stop pacing and turn to face her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She looks up at me, eyes filled with defiance and resignation. "Would it have made a difference?" she asks. "This marriage was arranged. Nothing was going to stop it."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. She's right. When the arrangement was made, Vittoria was nothing more than a pawn in a larger game. Her wellbeing didn't factor into the equation at all.
But things are different now. She's my wife, and despite the circumstances of our union, I feel fierce protectiveness toward her.
"Things are different now," I say, voicing my thoughts. "You're a Mariano. No one touches what's mine."
Vittoria's eyes flash at my words. "I'm not a possession, Cesare."
"No," I agree, moving to stand in front of her. "You're not. You're my wife. And I protect what's mine."
I reach out, gently tilting her chin up so she's looking at me. "From now on, you tell me everything, Vittoria. No more secrets. If anyone, and I mean anyone, threatens you or makes you feel unsafe, you come to me immediately. Understood?"
Vittoria holds my gaze, eyes shining with unshed tears. For a moment, I see the vulnerable young woman beneath the carefully constructed facade.
"Why do you care?" she asks softly. "This isn't a love match. I'm just fulfilling my role in this arrangement."
Her words sting more than I want to admit. I take a step back, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "You're right, this isn't about love," I say gruffly. "But you're my wifenow. That means something in our world. Your safety and wellbeing are my responsibility."
Vittoria stands, smoothing down her dress. "And what about my happiness?" she challenges. "Is that your responsibility too?"
There's that fire I saw from the beginning, the spirit that both intrigues and unnerves me.
"Happiness is a luxury in our world," I say finally. "But I can promise you protection and respect. That's more than most in your position can hope for."
She nods, expression unreadable. "I understand," she says quietly. "Is there anything else you need from me tonight, Cesare?"
I study her, noting the fatigue in her eyes, the slight slump of her shoulders. Despite her strength, she's still so young. Still learning to navigate this world.
"No," I say softly. "You can go. But remember what I said, Vittoria. No more secrets."
As she turns to leave, I call out once more. "And Vittoria?" She pauses, looking back. "You did well tonight. I'm... proud of how you handled yourself."
A small smile tugs at her lips, the first genuine one I've seen all evening. "Thank you, Cesare."
As the door closes behind her, I pour myself a scotch, my mind whirling with the night's events. Vittoria continues to surprise me, her strength and resilience far beyond her years.
But the knowledge of her father's abuse gnaws at me like a cancer.
The next morning, I'm in my study reviewing security reports when my phone rings. Domenico's name appears on the screen.
