"Finish the plate," he said, finally pulling out his phone. "Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow."
The dismissal was clear—now that he'd ensured I'd eat, I was expected to just... go to my room. Like an obedient child who'd been fed and was now being sent to bed.
Instead, I stood my ground, lifting my chin in defiance. "I want to call my sister."
"No."
The flat refusal made my temper flare. "She'll be worried—"
"She'll be fine." His eyes lifted from his phone, cold and unyielding. "She's been informed you're safe. That's all she needs to know for now."
"You can't just cut me off from my family—"
"I can, and I am." He set the phone down, giving me his full attention now. The shift was predatory, dangerous. "Until the marriage is finalized, until the alliance is secure, you don't contact anyone without my approval. That includes your sister."
Rage bubbled up, hot and fierce. "Isabella is seventeen. She's not part of this world yet. She doesn't deserve—"
"To worry about you?" He moved closer, invading my space with calculated precision. "Then give her a reason not to. Marry me tomorrow. Smile for the cameras. Play the happy bride. And once everything settles, you can call her all you want."
"Or would you prefer I send you back?" His voice dropped, taking on a cruel edge. "I'm sure Ricci's nephew is still waiting. From what I hear, Dante Calabrese was quite disappointed when his bride didn't show. Though given his reputation with women, maybe you made the right choice running." His eyes glinted with dark knowledge. "Three previous 'wives' dead under suspicious circumstances. But I'm sure the fourth time would've been different."
The manipulation was so blatant, so coldly effective, I wanted to claw his eyes out.
"How long?" I asked, the question scraping out of my throat.
"How long what?"
"How long is this marriage supposed to last? Forever? Until one of us dies? Or is there an expiration date on this prison sentence?"
Something flickered in his expression—not quite sympathy, but close. "Two to three years. Long enough to stabilize the alliance between our families, neutralize the threat from Giuseppe and Ricci. Once the situation is secure, we arrange a quiet annulment. Irreconcilable differences. Both families save face, the peace holds, and you get your freedom back."
The clinical way he laid it out should have been reassuring. A timeline. An end date. Proof this wasn't forever.
Instead, it felt hollow. "So I'm on loan. A temporary wife to solve a temporary problem."
"You're a strategic alliance that benefits both our families," he corrected. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"And what happens if I refuse to play along for two years? If I make your life hell every single day?"
His smile was cold. "Then those two years will feel much longer for both of us. But the terms don't change. You're mine until the arrangement ends."
"I hate you," I whispered.
"I know." He reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with unexpected gentleness. The touch sent an unwanted shiver through me. "But you'll marry me anyway. Because the alternative is watching your family bleed."
He was right. God help me, he was right.
I jerked away from his touch, wrapping my arms around myself. The torn wedding dress suddenly felt obscene—a reminder of the wedding I'd run from, the prison I'd chosen instead.
"Where will you sleep?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.
"My room is at the end of the hall." His expression shifted, something almost like amusement flickering in those ice-blue eyes. "Worried I'll come for you in the night,principessa?"
"You try it, and I'll kill you in your sleep."
He laughed—actually laughed, the sound rough and genuine.
The laugh transformed his face—softened the harsh angles of his jaw, the sharp line of his cheekbones. He was taller than I'd fully registered during the chaos of my escape, broad-shouldered in a way that made him fill doorways, command space without effort. Dark hair that looked like he'd run his hands through it too many times tonight. And those eyes—ice-blue and calculating, the kind that missed nothing, saw too much.
