Not because he ordered it.
Because I refuse to let him see my hesitation.
The diamond slides onto my finger.
It’s a ridiculously large, and it looks cold.Like my future husband’s eyes.
“What do you think?”the jeweler asks.
I lift my hand toward the light.
The stone explodes into brilliance.
“It’s too big.”
The man blinks.
Moretti exhales.“You prefer something smaller?”
“You know what I prefer.”
Warning flickers in his eyes.
Clearing his throat slightly, the jeweler takes a careful step back.
Moretti reaches across the table and takes my hand.
His fingers close around mine with quiet certainty, as though my resistance is merely a temporary inconvenience.
Slowly he brushes his thumb across my finger.
“You will wear my ring,” he says softly.“This is not negotiable.”
ChapterTwelve
Valentina
Despite my best intentions, my pulse jumps.
“And you’ll learn to like it.”
The look he gives me sends a slow curl of heat through my stomach that I refuse to acknowledge.
Then he removes the ring and studies another tray.
His attention sharpens as he scans the display, rejecting one after another with quiet authority.
“No,” he murmurs, sliding one aside.“Too ornate.”
Another.
“Too delicate.”
He pauses at a flawless emerald-cut diamond set in platinum—clean lines, ruthless elegance, nothing unnecessary.
Because it’s understated, I like it.
But with a quick wave, he dismisses it.
