"Romeo," she says. "What's really going on?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me. I know you. I know when you're hiding something." She crosses her arms. "Why won’t you tell me?”
“It’s not something you need to worry about.” My voice is gentler than it’s ever been with anyone else. “I’m fine.”
“You’re lying to Dad about something. That doesn’t feel fine.”
"Giulia—"
She bites her lip. “Don’t fuck up, Romeo, okay? I don’t want anything bad to happen.”
“Neither do I,” I promise her. “I’ll be fine.”
I can tell she’s not convinced, but she lets it go. I give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then I start the drive back to my penthouse, my thoughts clouded with Savannah.
She's engaged to a man who doesn't deserve her. He doesn't see her brilliance or appreciate her mind. He treats her like an ornament instead of a person.
Thaddeus Whitmore is an obstacle. A problem to be solved. And I'm very good at solving problems.
Luca will get me the information I need. He'll find something—financial impropriety, infidelity, some skeleton in Whitmore's closet that I can use. And if he doesn't find anything, we'll create something. A scandal. A rumor. Something that will make Savannah question her engagement and her future with him. Maybe even something that will make her father question it, force him to cut her loose of her promise.
Something that will set her free. And then I'll make her mine. Completely. Irrevocably.
I'll court her properly. I'll show her that I see her, that I value her mind as much as her body. I'll support her research, her dreams, her ambitions. I'll give her everything Whitmore can't—intellectual partnership, genuine respect, a future where she's not just an accessory but an equal.
I'll possess her in every way possible. I'll learn every inch of her body, every sound she makes, every way to make her come undone. I'll mark her, claim her, make her so thoroughly mine that the idea of belonging to anyone else becomes impossible.
I’ll show her that I see who she is, and then I’ll show her who I am. And she’ll understand that loving someone like me is worth it. She’ll choose me.
Back in my penthouse, I pull out my phone and open the folder of photos I've taken of her. Savannah reading under the tree. Savannah walking across campus. Savannah in the coffee shop, her face animated as she talks about her research.
I know I should delete them. I know this level of surveillance is wrong—it's dangerous, it's the behavior of someone who's lost control. But I can't. These photos are all I have of her right now. These stolen moments, these glimpses of her life.
Soon, I won't need photos. Soon, I'll have the real thing.
I set down my phone and close my eyes, and I let myself imagine it. Savannah in my bed, her honey-colored hair spread across my pillow. Savannah in my apartment, her books scattered across my coffee table. Savannah at family dinners, holding her own against my father, making Giulia laugh.
Savannah choosing me. Not because I've manipulated her or cornered her or because someone else chose me for her, but because she wants me.
That's what I want. That's what I need. And I will have it.
Whatever it takes.
7
SAVANNAH
I'm standing in front of my closet on Monday morning, and I've already changed my outfit three times.
This is ridiculous. It's just class. It's just Dr. Kouris's seminar, the same seminar I've attended every week for the past month. There's no reason to care what I'm wearing.
Except Romeo will be there. And I find myself wondering what he’ll think of my outfit choices.
I pull off my navy sweater and reach for a cream-colored silk blouse instead. It's nicer than what I usually wear to class, but not so nice that it's obvious I'm trying. I pair it with dark jeans and my favorite tall leather boots that make me feel confident and put-together. I braid and unbraid my hair, put on eyeliner, decide it’s too thick, and wipe it off again.
Then I catch myself in the mirror and realize what I'm doing.
