Her throat tightened. She stared at the edge of the curtain where the light pressed through. She was Donati blood. But she had slept within Severinarms.
The distinctionmattered.
Behind her, Magnus shifted. “You’re awake.”
“I didn’t sleep long,” Eliasaid.
“You slept,” he said, as if that alone was a victory.
The certainty in his voice settled somewhere deep inside her. For years sleep had been something cautious and shallow, something taken in fragments between obligations and rules. Waking like this, wrapped in warmth with no immediate demand waiting for her, was strange enough to be unsettling.
She hesitated. Then, “You’re sure. About him.”
“Yes.”
The answer came without hesitation. Magnus didn’t moderate it or dress it in careful language. He simply gave her the truth and expected her to stand insideit.
“And you believe me,” she pressed. “That I didn’t know.”
“Yes,” he said again.
One word. No questions. No suspicion. No ledger waiting for proof.
The certainty steadied something fragile inside her that had been splintering since the night before. “What do you think he wants?” she asked.
“Control,” Magnus said. “And access.”
Access.
The word settled heavily in her mind. Access to her, to the blood she had never known mattered, to whatever influence Vittorio believed her existence might give him overthe Severins.
Magnus’s hand shifted slightly on her waist, the pressure grounding. “He’ll try to reposition you,” he continued calmly. “Make you property again.”
The phrasing caused her stomach to tighten. Property. The Donatis had never used the word out loud, but the structure of her life there had always suggestedit.
Elia’s mouth went dry. “And you?”
Magnus turned her gently until she faced him, his gaze locking onto hers, steady and immovable.“I don’t surrender what I’ve claimed,” hesaid.
Claimed.
The word landed differently coming from him. Not like ownership written into a ledger. Something more deliberate. More dangerous.A small, involuntary awareness moved through her body before she could stop it, settling deep and warm beneath the lingering tension of the morning.
Magnus eased out of bed and stood, unhurried, powerful. Morning light cut across his shoulders and bare chest, down to the boxer briefs that cupped the heavy thickness of his partially erect cock.“We’re going to The Alabaster,” he announced.
Elia stiffened. “Today?”
“Now,” he corrected.
Elia drew in a careful breath and didn’t argue. “What do I wear?”
Magnus studied her for a moment, then glanced toward the bathroom. “You’ll feelbetter after a shower,” he said. “Take a few minutes.”It wasn’t quite a suggestion, but it wasn’t an order either.
Elia hesitated only a heartbeat before nodding. Her body remained heavy with sleep and last night’s revelations. The thought of hot water suddenly seemed like salvation.She slipped from the bed and crossed to the adjoining bath. The marble floor was cool beneath her feet.The shower came on with a warm rush of water.
Elia stepped beneath it and closed her eyes.Heat poured over her shoulders, loosening muscles she hadn’t realized were clenched. The tension of the night melted under the steady cascade.She washed quickly but thoroughly, needing the small ritual of reclaiming herself. Soap. Water. Cleanskin.
When she stepped out, steam filled the room. She wrapped herself in a towel and paused at the mirror.The woman staring back looked different.Not a servant.Not a debtor.A Donati.The realization still was unreal.
