And then he steps away.
The moment he does, her mask slips. Victoria turns to me like a predator sensing weakness.
“My, what a…comfortablesituation you’ve found yourself in,” she says, her tone saccharine with venom. “How convenient—to be alive, nestled in his home, while his daughter lies in the ground.”
The words hit harder than a slap. I blink, once.
How dare she.
“You think you’re special?” she hisses, inching closer. “You’re not. You’re a moment of distraction. A symptom of grief. And trust me, my husband will ensure you’re on the next plane out of here.”
I feel my pulse race, shame and fury rising in equal measure.
My spine stiffens, but I don’t step back. I won’t give her the satisfaction.
“Preying on his broken heart? You’re mistaken if you think I’m here out of convenience. I loved Sienna.”
Victoria’s brows arch, her smile curving with derision. “Aren’t you? Don’t flatter yourself, dear. Everyone sees it for what it is. You’re a distraction. A mistake.”
“If I’m such a mistake, why are you so threatened?” I ask softly.
Her smile falters, just for a beat.
“Your husband can make all the phone calls he wants,” I continue. “But you don’t get to rewrite who Sienna was to me. Or who I am now.”
She leans in, perfume too sweet and suffocating. “You’re no one. You’ll always be no one.”
But before I can respond, Lorenzo’s shadow stretches across us.
“Is there a problem here?” he asks. His voice calm but it’s the kind of calm that comes before the storm.
Victoria straightens like she’s been caught mid-theft. “Not at all. I was simply expressing our family’s concern for your…guest.”
Lorenzo steps between us, his arm brushing mine like a shield.
“Elizabeth is not a guest. She’s family.”
Victoria’s eyes flicker.
He doesn’t stop. “And if Federico has something to say to me, he can say it directly. But let me be very clear, Victoria: if I find out either of you has interfered with her safety or freedom in any way, I will consider it a personal threat against the Conti Family.”
That smile of hers slips entirely now.
Lorenzo doesn’t even blink. “Do I make myself clear?”
She nods once, stiffly, and then with all the grace her heels can carry, turns and walks away.
As the tension lingers like smoke, Lorenzo exhales slowly.
Then he turns to me, brushing his fingers against my elbow. “Are you okay?”
I nod. But my voice is quiet when I say, “She said you’d regret keeping me here.”
His hand moves to my jaw, tipping my face toward his.
“The only thing I’d regret is losing you.”
I let out a breathy laugh, the kind that comes when your heart’s too full and your body already knows what’s coming.
