I assumed his daughter would carry the same moral rot.
But Giuliana just proved that assumption catastrophically wrong.
And I hate being wrong.
“Romano would have protected you,” I say, testing her reasoning. “Once you delivered the information, you’d be valuable to him. An asset.”
“Or a liability he’d eliminate the moment I was no longer useful.” Giuliana’s laugh is sharp and knowing. “I’m not stupid, Luca. I know how your world works. There’s no such thing as guaranteed safety when you betray someone like you. Romano would have used me and then disposed of me to tie up loose ends.”
“So you chose me.” The words are foreign in my mouth. “You chose loyalty to your captor over freedom.”
She tips her head back and laughs, but it’s not a good laugh. “Loyalty? You think this isloyalty?I chose not to be responsible for more deaths,” she corrects sharply, her eyes flashing with controlled anger. “Don’t confuse my refusal to become a traitor with any kind of affection or loyalty to you personally. I’d still leave in a heartbeat if I could do it without blood on my hands.”
The clarification should satisfy me.
It should confirm that this changes nothing between us.
But something in her voice suggests she’s trying to convince herself as much as me.
Like she’s drawn a line she’s desperately trying not to cross, and my proximity is making that harder than she wants to admit.
I close the remaining distance between us, and she tilts her head back to maintain eye contact, refusing to be intimidated.
This close, I can see the purple-ish bags under her eyes that suggest she’s sleeping as poorly as I am.
I can smell her shampoo—its clean and floral and has nothing to do with the expensive products I provide.
I can see the way her lips part slightly as she catches her breath, the defiance in her eyes mixed with something else that makes my pulse race.
The thought intrudes before I can stop it: she’s beautiful when she’s angry.
More than beautiful—she’s magnetic in a way that makes it hard to remember why maintaining distance matters, why keeping her at arm’s length emotionally is essential for the plan.
I force myself to step back, to break whatever dangerous moment just passed between us.
This isexactlywhy I’ve been avoiding her.
This unwanted pull that has nothing to do with revenge and everything to do with the fact that my body apparently doesn’t give a fuck that she’s not supposed to be a temptation.
“You’re not like him,” I finally say, hating every word that comes out of my mouth. “Your father. You’re nothing like him.”
Giuliana’s eyes widen slightly, surprise crossing her features before she can hide it. But then her eyes narrow. “Is that supposed to comfort me?” she snaps. “You’re still punishing me for his crimes.”
“I know.” The words come out harsher than I intend. “I know that, and I’m doing it anyway.”
“Why?” The question bursts out of her, raw and desperate. “If you know I’m innocent, if you can see I’m nothing like my father, why continue this? What does destroying me accomplish?”
Because someone has to pay.
Because Marco’s death demands avenging and I don’t know how else to do so. Because three years of planning can’t be wrong or be wasted.
But I don’t say any of that. “I’ve already told you that the alliance with Viktor Torrino requires a stable marriage,” I say, my voice businesslike. “That’s what you’re for, Giuliana. Political theater to seal territorial agreements. I’m not going to remind you of this again.”
“And after?” She’s not letting me evade the real question. She can see I’m deflecting. “After the alliance is secure and I’ve played my role, what happens to me?”
Clever,clevergirl.
I could lie, tell her she’ll live out her days in comfortable captivity, give her some false hope to cling to.
