Davide shot to his feet, his eyes gleaming as if he’d already won.
“Lady Tocino,” he said, bowing slightly before taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “You look… splendid.”
“Thank you,” I said sweetly, fluttering my lashes with mock modesty. All the while, my mind raced behind the mask.
There was no way in hell I would marry Davide Amato.
My parents clucked and chirped around me, their voices merging into a dull, ceaseless drone of admonishments and expectations. Each word grated against my ears, a reminder of the future they were eager to thrust upon me.
They believed this was the grand send-off, the moment their precious daughter would finally become a betrothed lady. I could see it in their shining eyes and hear it in Mammina’s sniffles as she fussed with the lace on my sleeve.
But I had other plans.
We bade them farewell, their faces aglow with hope. Mammina dabbed at the corner of her eye with a silk kerchief, no doubt already imagining the wedding feast, the flower arrangements, the seating charts.
I slid my hand into the crook of Davide’s arm like a dutiful daughter, all charm and grace, and let him lead me outside.
Waiting in the drive was his carriage—a gleaming black calèche, its polished frame glinting in the sun. The fold-down roof had been unlatched and pulled back for the day’s heat, giving the open vehicle a grand, parade-like presence.
Then it happened.
I lost my footing and stumbled forward.
The two snow-white Andalusians reared slightly, their muscles tensing, nostrils flaring. The whites of their eyes flashed in alarm, and their manes whipped like storm-tossed waves. They jerked against the reins, hooves stamping, as if sensing something unnatural in the air.
Davide sprang into action, his voice thunderous.
“Ivory Moon! Frostfire! Whoa, steady!”
He yanked the harness, his jaw clenched as he fought to calm them. The horses whinnied and snorted, unsettled by something unseen.
At last, they stilled, their ears twitching in the quiet morning.
Davide turned back to me, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. “I don’t know what got into them. They’re usually well-behaved.”
I smiled sweetly as I slipped onto the plush leather seat first, smoothing my skirts with practiced grace before he joined me.
“Perhaps they saw something that spooked them,” I said softly.
“Perhaps,” Davide replied, climbing in beside me. “But I don’t want you to worry. I’d never put you in harm’s way.”
He clucked and snapped the reins against the horses’ rumps, urging them into a quicker pace, eager to escape whatever had startled them.
I didn’t understand why the horses had reacted to me, but the thought lingered, curling around my mind like smoke.
And then, a plan began to take shape—a wicked little bloom of possibility.
What if Davide were removed entirely, not just from my life but from everyone’s?
The idea filled me with a dark thrill.
I didn’t yet know how to make it happen, not exactly. I wasn’tsure how to frighten the horses on command, how to stage an accident that didn’t implicate me. But I was clever. Resourceful.
I’d find a way.
We trotted along the dusty road until Davide finally drew the reins and brought the carriage to a stop near a creek. The water trickled gently along the bank, framed by swaying grasses and low-hanging trees. The scene was idyllic, but I felt nothing.
He stepped down and circled to my side, reaching up with both hands to grab my waist. His fingers closed around me with unnecessary familiarity.
