I walk toward the living room window, gripping the phone tighter. “I know.”
“Speaking of, your ring has been resized and should be delivered tomorrow. Make sure you wear it,cara.It’s almost time for the world to know that you are mine.”
My chest tightens.
Of course—the gala he hasn’t shut up about for the past few days. I’ve had several fittings, all of them with him present. He wants to make sure I’m dressed the part.
His perfect complementary piece.
“Of course, Giacomo.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll send something up,” he says.
My throat tightens. “Thank you.”
“You’re quiet tonight.” There’s an undertone to his voice—accusatory, sharp around the edges.
“I’m just tired.”
“Of course you are,” he soothes. “Everything’s still new, and you’re still finding your footing. But soon it’ll all feel like home. I promise.”
I murmur something under my breath, and thankfully he doesn’t catch it.
He lowers his voice. “You know, Beatrice… you’re special to me. I didn’t choose you lightly.”
“I know.”
“And I’ll protect what’s mine. Always.”
A cold chill skates down my spine. I close my eyes, summoning the resolve I cling to whenever I deal with him.
“I know, Giacomo. And I appreciate what you’re doing.”
He holds the power, so I use my voice the way he expects.
“I need to go take a shower. I got caught in the rain, so I need to warm up before I catch a cold.”
I lie to him with ease.
“Of course, my love. I’ll have the food sent to you within the hour.” His voice softens, a tone that should comfort—but nothing about him warrants comfort. “Get warm. I will see you tomorrow.”
When the call ends, I slam the phone onto the countertop and let out a heavy breath.
“Fuck,” I curse.
For a second, I allowed myself to forget.
I let the presence of that man consume me—make me feel things I know I shouldn’t feel.
I need to stay far away from Matteo Davacalli.
My life literally depends on it.
7
