"Not ever now. The ceremony never finished and I’m not repeating it."
I file that information away. The marriage was clearly not her idea. "You didn't want to marry him?"
She looks away, but not before I catch something vulnerable in her expression. "What I wanted was never relevant."
"No? Then what did you want?"
"Does it matter now?"
I shrug. "I'm curious."
She's quiet for so long I think she won't answer. "To choose my own life,” she finally says.
The honesty catches me off guard. There's real pain there, not just the princess routine I expected.
"And instead, you got sold to the highest bidder," I observe.
"Twice, apparently."
The bitter humor in her voice is unexpected. I find myself almost smiling. "At least I'm honest about what I am."
"A kidnapper?"
"A businessman. Lorenzo pretended to be a gentleman while negotiating your sale. I just skip the pretense."
She processes this, her intelligent eyes working through the implications. "You think that makes you better than him?"
"I think it makes me honest."
"Honest." She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "You kidnapped me from my own wedding."
"I collected collateral for a legitimate debt."
We stare at each other in the mirror, some kind of verbal fencing match I didn't expect to enjoy this much. She's not breaking down or begging. She's engaging. Fighting back with words instead of tears.
Impressive.
"The money," she says suddenly. "The six million euros. They don't have it, do they?"
Most people in her position would be begging, pleading, promising their families will pay anything. She's asking strategic questions.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because if they had it, Lorenzo would have offered it immediately to get me back." Her voice is matter-of-fact. "Instead, he chose to cut his losses."
"The Rossi family has resources. They can sell assets…yachts, cars, houses."
"Resources they're unwilling to spend on me."
"We'll see." She might be right, but I doubt it. They’ll pay.
"What happens if they don't pay?"
I consider my answer and her reaction. "Then we explore other profitable options."
She nods slowly when the implication hits her. But she doesn't break down, doesn't start sobbing or begging.
"You're taking this all remarkably well," I observe.
