One month ago, the plan was crystal clear:
Marry Fran.
Produce a male heir.
Preserve the Conti legacy.
It was transactional. Strategic. Efficient. Everything I’ve built my life around. But then came Elizabeth And now everything iscomplicated.
I’ve always prided myself on being a man of my word—doing what needs to be done even when others would run. Which is why I know exactly what I have to do tonight. Even if it cuts me open.
Closing my eyes, I say a silent prayer that Elizabeth…Miss Miller… will forgive me.
When Fran returns I stand and extend my arm.
“Thank you,” I say.
Her brows knit with surprise. “For what?”
“For giving me an heir.” I kiss her knuckles above her engagement ring with practiced ease. “After the gala, I’d like to come back here. To spend the night..”
She stares at me, suspicion flickering behind her eyes.
“You confuse me, Lorenzo Conti. One moment you’re all in, the next I worry you’ll vanish without a word.”
I offer her the same smile I’ve used to disarm enemies and woo diplomats.
“I’m all in,” I lie smoothly. “In fact, when we return tonight, perhaps we can go over some of the wedding details.”
Fran studies me for a long moment. Then, she nods.
“I’d like that.”
The terrible thing is I’m sure she means it while I don’t.
But as we walk toward the car, her hand in mine and my future supposedly set, I can’t stop the ache in my chest.
Because no matter what I just promised Fran… My heart is already somewhere else. And I may have just sentenced the onlywoman I’ve ever truly wanted to a kind of heartbreak she never deserved.
The gala is packed with wall-to-wall wealth, power, and sharpened smiles. Flashbulbs go off. Strings swell. Champagne flows like water. And it all feels so fucking suffocating.
We barely make it two steps into the ballroom when Fran’s parents intercept us.
Her mother’s eyes shine like polished knives. “Did you tell him?”
Fran’s cheeks flush bright red. “Mother.”
“What?” Victoria presses, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “A woman is allowed to be excited for her first grandchild.”
My stomach clenches so hard it feels like someone’s driving a fist beneath my ribs. I force my face into the polite smile expected of a Don. It’s measured, unreadable, but carved from stone.
“That may be,” I say evenly, “but it’s wise to keep things like this under wraps for a while.”
Victoria’s expression curdles instantly, like spoiled milk. “You always seem to keep anything involving my daughter under wraps.”
The accusation slides through the air like a blade.
Federico’s head snaps toward her, eyes flashing his warning. “That’s enough, wife. Lorenzo is following tradition. We don’t announce anything until we’re sure everything is in order.”
