I nod and step past him, walking the rest of the hallway like a ghost wearing my skin. When I reach the guest room, I close the door behind me and lean against it for a long moment. The silence presses in like a weight.
I look around the room. The space feels too small, too temporary, too full of everything I don’t want to face.
I can’t stay here.
I can’t?—
But what if I’m pregnant?
My stomach twists again, nausea sweeping through me so hard I grip the dresser to steady myself. I try to imagine what Sienna would say, what she would do if she were here.
But I can’t because Sienna… Sienna wouldn’t be dumb enough to fall into a trap like this. She wouldn’t let a man like Lorenzo ruin her life. She wouldn’t lie awake wondering if her body had already betrayed her heart. She’d run and save herself.
And standing in this room that smells like Lorenzo, I realize I don’t even know if I can do that.
I’m deep in thought, well, more like panic looping through my mind in a tight, choking circle, when there’s a knock. Before I can answer, the door swings open and Francesca walks in like she owns the place. Maybe she does. She certainly has more of a right to be in this house than I do.
She sits on the edge of my bed, one manicured hand smoothing her skirt as if she isn’t intruding on the wreckage of my life.
“I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” she says bluntly. “Which is why I’d like to offer you an olive branch.”
My brows knit because that isn’t what I expected her to say.
“Olive branch?”
“A peace offering,” she clarifies, then adds with a cruel smile, “though we both know you should be the one offering me something since you’ve been sleeping with my fiancé.”
My eyes widen. The air catches in my throat. Oh my god. She knows?
She laughs a soft, elegant, vicious sound.
“Yes, I know all aboutthat. I can’t say I blame you. Lorenzo is very persuasive when he wants something. Even if it was just a distraction to help him get over the loss of his daughter.”
The mention of his daughter cuts deeper than any accusation and I flinch. Hard. Honestly, I think it hurts so much because it makes sense. In what world does a man like Lorenzo Conti endup with a nobody like me? Spoiler alert. They don’t. No, they end up with women like Francesca, who understand the world he runs. Who have been trained their entire life to stand at his side.
And me? I was just something that helped him get over the tragic loss of Sienna. If I hadn’t been here, I’m sure he would have turned straight to Francesa. As he should have.
My stomach roils.
But she isn’t finished.
“Lorenzo is going to come home tonight and tell you everything is safe in Kansas City,” she says matter-of-factly. “He’ll say you can leave. Say he’s done what he promised.”
She tilts her head, watching me like a specimen under glass.
“But we both know he’s not the type of man to let someone go that easily.”
A chill climbs my spine. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she says, voice flattening into something cold and practiced, “that he will have people watching you for the rest of your life. And when the time comes that you want happiness again? A relationship? A family? You won’t get it. He will make sure of it.”
My heart stumbles. “Why would he?—”
She cuts me off. “Ask me how I know.”
My voice is barely audible. “How do you know?”
“Because he did the same thing with his last mistress.”
