My.
“He’ll get bored of you soon.” Gabriella’s voice cuts through my spiral, smooth and certain. A phase. A novelty. That’s all I am. She’s permanence. She’s had him in ways I haven’t, knows his body, his patterns, and exactly what sounds he makes in?—
Fury rises hot and sudden, drowning the hurt.
“Must be nice.” My voice comes out cold. A tone I learned from Southie girls who’d cut you as soon as look at you. “Thinking men are yours just because daddy signed a contract.”
Her eyes widen.
“Tell me something, Gabriella.” I step forward. Into her space now. “If he always comes back... why are you here?”
She flinches.
“Why aren’t you in his bed right now instead of storming through his garden screaming at his ‘distraction’?” I cock my head. “If you’re so confident he’ll tire of me, why do you look like you’re about to have a fucking stroke?”
“You—”
“He ended it.” I cut her off. “One text message. After twelve years. That’s how much you meant to him.”
Her face contorts.
I should stop. Should walk away before this escalates. But something dark and vicious has taken hold of me, and I can’t seem to make myself care.
“All those nights in his bed, all those times you spread your legs thinking you were securing your future—” The words tastelike acid. “—and he threw you away for ared-headed whorehe’s known for weeks.”
“Puttana!” She lunges, nails out, teeth bared., every trace of polished sophistication stripped away and replaced by something feral and ugly.
I bring my hands up to block her just as a guard steps between us, catching her arm mid-swing and hauling her back before her nails can connect. She fights his grip, spitting Italian curses, every line of her body vibrating with rage.
“Lasciami! Lasciami, stronzo!”
My heart pounds as adrenaline floods my system. But I don’t back down, don’t flinch. I stand my ground with my fists clenched and my jaw tight.
Come on, princess. Try again.
Footsteps. Fast. Heavy.
Elio appears at the edge of the courtyard.
Elio comes through the courtyard entrance and stops. He takes in the scene in a single sweep, Gabriella restrained and snarling, me braced, the guard struggling to hold her, and his expression goes lethal.
He crosses to me first. His hand finds my waist and pulls me against his side, his body angling between me and Gabriella. His other hand cups my jaw, tilting my face toward his, eyes moving over me with careful attention.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
His thumb grazes my cheekbone once. Then he turns and the warmth vanishes from his expression like someone flipped a switch.
“Gabriella.” Her name comes out flat. Cold. A full stop disguised as a word. “No one comes here without my invitation. You know this.”
“Elio—” She stops struggling against the guard. Tries to compose herself, smooth her hair, reclaim some shred of dignity. “Amore mio, you can’t seriously?—”
“Don’t.” One word. It stops her cold. “The engagement is over. You received my message. You have never been welcome here, and you will not come again.”
“Never been welcome? I know I haven’t been here before—” The laugh that comes out of her is wrong, too sharp, cracking at the edges. “—but we’ve been promised to each other since we were children. My father?—”
“Your father can discuss terms with my lawyers.” Elio doesn’t move. Doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t need to. “You and I have nothing left to discuss.”
