“He’s not using me. There’s nothing to use. We don’t talk about anything family related unless talking about what I’m cooking for dinner is some sort of secret now.” I force myself not to clench my fists.
“Leticia.” Dad scolds me, and I expect escalation. But he draws a breath and sits back in his chair. His voice holds a cutting precision. “You’ve said nothing about anything we do here? Even a small detail.”
“Are you kidding?” The question slips out with uncalculated frustration, but I push through and try taking a page from Antonella’s book. “What would I even know to tell him? No one tells me anything. I didn’t figure out until dinner the next night that someone had attempted to kidnap me from the university. What could I even know to tell Royal?”
Dad’s jaw drops, and he looks at Berto. Since he’s looking at Berto, I look at him too.
Berto shrugs. “She has a point.”
“This has to stop.” Dad swings his gaze back to me. “It’s a risk, and it’s improper. You’re to be pure for marriage.”
My fists clench despite my efforts to stay calm, but this accusation of impropriety cuts. “We’re just friends. There is nothing improper about it. We determined there is no risk because I don’t know anything.”
I gasp, swallowing it down.I can’t believe I did that.Eyes wide, I look between Dad and Berto, waiting to be reprimanded.
“Leticia, you’ll be married soon. And it will be to someone worthy of what you are: a princess to my empire.” Dad starts with the lecture.
No. No. No.I chant it in my head, hoping that somehow this isn’t him taking away the tiny bit of joy I have in my life. But I cling to false hope like I clung to Antonella when she first came back home from New York, tight and begging for it not to go away ever again.
“You need to not spend your time talking to strange men.” Dad looks down his nose at me.
“And they don’t get any stranger than that weird Cavanagh nerd. The second son probably wishes he’d been born a girl rather thansimply the spare heir.” Berto rolls his eyes. “Then he’d be worth something.”
“True,” Dad mumbles.
I bite my tongue, stopping myself from defending Royal, his uniqueness, and how loved he seems to feel.I can’t believe how mean they’re being.
“Wait —” Berto holds a finger up in the air. “What if we use this?”
“Use what?” Dad gestures to me broadly with an open hand.
“They’ll never suspect Leticia as a spy. She’s a woman. They may not be as careful about what they say to her. She could find out more about their entire operation.” A sly smile crawls across Berto’s lips.
I shake my head. “I thought we’re in a truce with the Cavanaghs. Why would we need to spy on them?”
Dad lets out a huffy, heady laugh before picking up his own cup of amber liquid. He pauses to take a sip. “Just because we’re in a sworn truce, sealed by your cousin’s marriage, doesn’t mean we can trust everything they say or do. Surely they don’t trust us.”
“It’ll be so easy.” Berto smiles as he sits next to me. “All you have to do is listen and report back what they say. You’re good at remembering things. Maybe be indirect and ask that punk Royal what he’s up to.”
“We don’t talk about his work.” I warn them, but I see an opportunity to get out of going to Italy, and I’m not missing it. “But I could try. I know Mom really wants me to go to Italy, but if I stay home, I could maybe meet up with their family more. It’d be great to see Antonella. Surely everyone will be there at Christmas. Maybe the more I’m around, the more comfortable they’ll be?”
“You’re awfully eager. Are you sure you’re up to this?” Dad’s eyebrows are raised, and he purses his lips. “What happens if they ask why you want to know something?”
“It’s curiosity. What’s the worst that could happen?” I fail to stop myself from shrinking into the chair. “They won’t answer, and we’ll move forward with conversation.”
“I don’t like it.” Dad shakes his head. “They don’t call Valor all those dark and terrible things for no reason. It’s a small miracle he hasn’t turned his knives against Antonella already. He’s a blood-thirsty killer, and the worst that would happen is that he’d kill you.” Dad’s tone is sharp, cutting, and there’s a fire in his gaze as he stares at me. It’s deep, and for a moment, I think it softens. But then he adds, “You’re too valuable.”
“It’s the best opportunity we’ve gotten.” Berto argues on my behalf. “If you’re serious about wanting an in to make sure that they’re not doing anything against the treaty, then sending her to their house is the best bet. Their guard will be down.”
Silently, Dad mulls over the decision. He swirls his glass and takes a sip. Then he turns toward the window overlooking the lake. He stands from his desk and crosses the room to look out as if a few feet will help him see the other side of the expanse of water.
After a few more seconds of loaded silence, he turns and glares at Berto, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. “Alright, but at the first sign of danger, you’re coming home to be with your sister and keep her in line.”
“Understood.” Berto nods and turns to me. Through gritted teeth, he warns me. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“I won’t.” I shake my head.
My brain is buzzing, and I can hardly believe what is happening.
