“Gabriella.”
The name stops me cold.
“What?”
“Her name is Gabriella Rossi.” His jaw tightens. “And I don’t want her. I’ve never wanted her. The engagement was arranged by my father when I was twenty-two. A political alliance between families. Blood oath to seal a treaty.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.” He takes a step closer. “Because Gabriella doesn’t want me either. She wants the power the marriage represents. The Rossi family wants access to Marchetti resources. My father wants control over my future.” Another step. “I’m a chess piece to them. Same as you are to Cicero.”
“Don’t.” My hand comes up. Palm out. Warning. “Don’t you dare compare us.”
“I’m not comparing. I’m explaining.” He stops just out of reach. “The engagement has been hanging over my head for twelve years. I’ve been finding excuses to delay. Deals to negotiate. Territories to secure. Anything to avoid?—”
“To avoid what? Actually going through with it?” Contempt drips from every word. “Poor baby. Had to kidnap an American to get out of marrying his rich Italian fiancée.”
His eyes flash. “That’s not why I took you.”
“Then why?” I’m shouting now. Don’t care. “What happens in one week, Elio? What does Ferrante mean?”
He goes still.
“Tell me.”
Silence stretches. His jaw works. I watch the war play out across his face—what to reveal, what to hide, how much truth I can handle.
“Ferrantes are a rival family.” Each word comes out like it costs him something. “Hugo Ferrante controls territories in the north. He’s been pushing against Marchetti borders for years. Wanting what we have.”
“And?”
“And Cicero is full of empty threats.”
“What?”
“If I don’t marry Gabriella, the Rossi alliance falls apart. Cicero loses leverage with the Syndicate. His solution is to ally with the Ferrantes.” Elio’s voice is flat. “A bargaining chip to smooth over the insult of breaking the engagement.”
I can’t breathe. “Am I the bargaining chip?”
His hands clench at his sides, his silence confirming my suspicion.
“So I’m currency. That’s all I’ve ever been. To your father. To you. Something to be traded.”
“Not to me.”
“Bullshit.” I’m shaking now. From rage. From fear. From the horrible understanding that I never had any control. “You were going to marry Gabriella and keep me locked up here as your side piece. Fuck me when you wanted. Return to your wife when you were done. That was always the plan, wasn’t it?”
“No.” The word explodes from him. “That was never?—”
“Then what? What was your grand plan, Elio? Keep me prisoner forever while you played house with someone else?”
“I was ending it.” His voice cracks. Actually cracks. “I was finding a way out. Looking for leverage against the Rossis, against my father?—”
“Words.” I spit the syllable at him. “Just words. You’ve done nothing except lie to me since the moment we met.”
He stares at me.
Then he pulls out his phone.
