When I open the door, Pietro stands there in a crisp suit, already put together like he's been awake for hours. Knowing him, he probably has.
"This couldn't wait until noon?" I ask, stepping aside to let him in.
He doesn't sit. Never a good sign. Instead, he crosses his arms and faces me with that expression I've come to recognize—the one that says he's about to deliver news I won't like.
"James Rogers canceled."
I blink. Process. Then something loosens in my chest that I didn't realize was tight.
Thank God.
"Oh." I keep my voice neutral. "That's... unfortunate."
Pietro's eyes narrow. He knows me too well. "You're relieved."
"I'm concerned," I correct, moving to my desk chair to create distance. "What was so important that he'd cancel a dinner with the Sartori family?"
"Business emergency. Something about a shipment issue at one of their dealerships." Pietro waves his hand dismissively. "Doesn't matter. The point is, you're free tonight."
The way he saysfreemakes my stomach drop.
"Pietro—"
"Dmitri Baganov is available."
I laugh. The sound comes out sharper than I intend. "No."
"Vittoria—"
"We can wait until James reschedules." I cross my arms, mirroring his stance. "There's no rush."
Pietro's jaw tightens. "You'll have to meet with Baganov eventually. Why not use the day you were already planning to evaluate a potential husband?"
"Because—" I stop myself before I say something I can't take back.
"Because what?"
I shake my head, trying a different approach. "Do you hear yourself right now? 'Use the day you were already planning to evaluate a potential husband.' Like I'm shopping for furniture."
"I hate this," he admits. "You think I don't know how this sounds?"
"Then don't make me do it."
"I can't." He runs a hand through his hair, a rare crack in his composure. "Mamma won't stop pushing. The alliance needs to happen. And you?—"
"Need to be sold to the highest bidder?"
"Cazzo, Vittoria." His voice drops. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" I stand, anger building in my throat. "It's easy for you to say this is just business. You would never have been in this position."
Pietro goes very still.
"You're wrong."
"Am I? You're the Don. You choose who you marry. You choose?—"
"I didn't choose anything." His words cut through mine like a blade. "From the moment I took this title, I needed to find a wife. A suitable wife. Someone who could handle this life without breaking." He pauses, and I see something raw in his expression. "Nora just happened at the right moment. That's all."
