"Practical doesn't mean prostituting myself," I snap.
I grip the phone tighter as Byron's words claw at my insides. His demand that I use my body as a weapon is nothing new, but it still makes me feel hollow.
"What about the dinner?" Byron asks, his voice shifting to something lighter, almost eager. "Did he mention anything about our evening together?"
I close my eyes, remembering Damiano's fury as we left Byron's house. A small smile tugs at my lips despite myself.
"You played your part well," I admit. "He was furious."
"Good." I can hear the satisfaction in Byron's voice. "Men like Feretti are easy to manipulate when their pride is wounded."
"He didn't like the way you spoke to me," I say, my words carefully chosen. "He made that clear on the drive home."
Byron chuckles. "Perfect. The more protective he feels, the more he'll let his guard down around you."
Every interaction is a game to Byron—even the ones where he pretended to care for megrowing up.
"Look, I'm making progress. Lucrezia trusts me. I've been observing their business meetings. But rushing this will only make Damiano suspicious." I say, hoping he will be pleased for now.
Byron sighs, the sound heavy with disappointment. "I didn't spend years preparing you for half measures."
The familiar ache spreads through my chest. "I remember every day."
"Good. Then don't forget why you're there." His voice softens to that fatherly tone that always makes me doubt myself. "Call me when you have something worth reporting."
The line goes dead before I can respond.
I throw the phone onto the bed, my hands shaking with anger—at Byron, at Damiano, at myself for the doubt creeping into my resolve.
No matter how much I hate Damiano for what he did to my father, I can't bring myself to cross that line. The memory of last night flashes through my mind—his hands on my skin, the way my body responded against my will. The heat rises to my cheeks as I remember how close I came to giving in.
That's exactly why it's too dangerous. If I let Damiano touch me like that again, I might lose myself in the moment. I might forget why I'm here. And then what would all these years of preparation be worth?
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pace across the room, my thoughts racing. There has to be another way to get the information Byron wants without compromising myself further.
Lucrezia trusts me. She's already shared things about Damiano's protective nature. But I need more—business details, security weaknesses, financial information.Things that would actually help Byron take down the Feretti empire.
Think, Zoe.
Damiano's office. That's where the real information would be. If I could get access to his computer, his files... but he's too careful. He wouldn't leave anything important unlocked.
Then I remember something. During dinner conversations, Damiano mentioned a charity gala coming up this weekend—some high-profile event where all the important families in New York would be present. Including the Ferettis.
If everyone's out of the house, maybe I'd have a chance to search Damiano's office without interference.
I need to act fast. Byron's patience is wearing thin, and I don't want to find out what happens if I fail him. The thought sends a chill down my spine.
But I also need to be smart about this. One wrong move and Damiano will see through me. And if that happens...
A knock at the door interrupts my planning. When I open it, Ginerva stands there, hands folded neatly at her waist.
"Signora, the Don requests your presence in his office," she says, her tone gentle despite delivering what feels like a summoning.
My stomach tightens. "Did he say what it's about?"
"No, signora. Just that he wishes to see you now." Her eyes hold a hint of sympathy.
Perfect timing. After what happened between us last night, seeing Damiano is the last thing I want. But refusing would only make things worse.
