“I didn’t have a choice,” I bite out, shoving the plate away from me.
“There’s always a choice,cara. You chose your father’s life over your freedom. That speaks well of your character.”
The casual way he discusses ruining my life makes my hands clench around my fork. “When can I see him?”
Luca doesn’t look up from his wine. “When I decide you’ve earned that privilege.”
I fight the urge to let my jaw drop. “And how do I earn it?”
His smile is like a shark that’s scented blood. “By being an obedient wife. By accepting your new reality without unnecessary resistance. By remembering that every comfort you enjoy here, every moment of mercy I show your father, exists because I allow it.”
I force myself to take a breath, to push down the rage that wants to explode out of my chest. “What about my animals?”
“Your animals are being cared for at a veterinary hospital,” is his response.
Anger flares in my chest. “I want to see them. To check on their treatment?—”
“No.”
The word is final, absolute. I try again anyway because I’ve always pushed boundaries. “My friend Katie—she’ll be worried. Can I at least call her to explain?—”
“No.”
“My veterinary license requires continuing education,” I say, trying a different avenue. “If I don’t maintain it?—”
“You won’t need it.” He smirks at me.
Each denial lands like a slap and I place my hands in my lap, my hands curled into fists so tight I can feel my nails biting into my skin. “So that’s it? Everything I worked for, everything I built, just…gone?”
Luca leans back in his chair, studying me like I’m a particularly interesting specimen under glass.
His gaze is like an x-ray. “You’re not understanding the situation, Giuliana. Your previous life is over. The womanwho owned that clinic, who had friends and colleagues and independence—she doesn’t exist anymore. There is only Mrs. Marchetti, and she exists entirely within the boundaries I establish.”
“I’m not Mrs. Marchetti yet,” I say fiercely, wanting to refute him. To wipe that smug fucking smile off his stupid fucking face.
He inclines his head. “A technicality,” he allows. “The ceremony is scheduled for six weeks from now. Until then, you’ll remain here, learn the rules of your new life, and prepare to play the role I require of you.” He sips his wine. “Viktor Torrino expects to meet you next week. You’ll smile, play the devoted fiancée, and convince him that our marriage is a love match rather than what it actually is.”
“And what is it actually?” I snap.
His smile is ice cold. “Revenge. Your father took something irreplaceable from me. Now I’m taking something irreplaceable from him. And he gets to live knowing it’s entirely his fault.”
The cruelty of it takes my breath away. “You’re a monster,” I whisper.
“Perhaps. But I’m the monster who controls every aspect of your existence now.” He stands, tossing his napkin onto his chair. “Finish your dinner. Maria will escort you back to your room. I suggest you use the time to adjust your expectations about what your life will be from this point forward.”
He’s leaving—just walking away like he hasn’t just confirmed that I’m a prisoner in a game designed to torture my father.
I stand so quickly my chair scrapes against the marble floor.
“Wait—please.” I stand so quickly my chair scrapes against the marble floor, and immediately regret it as pain lances through my ribs. I press a hand to my side involuntarily.
Luca’s eyes drop to where my hand clutches my ribs, then slowly travel up to the bruise on my cheekbone. His expression doesn’t change. There’s no concern, no regret, not even satisfaction at seeing evidence of his handiwork. Just cold assessment, like he’s noting the condition of a piece of property.
The deliberate indifference is somehow worse than cruelty would be.
“Just—just tell me if my father is really okay. That’s all I’m asking.” God, I hate that I’m begging but not knowing about my father’s condition is tortuous. Which is exactly what Luca probably wants.
Luca pauses at the doorway, his expression unreadable. “He’s alive. For now, that will have to be enough.”
