Savannah blanches. "Then why?—"
"Because despite all of that, I would never hurt you. I would never control you or dismiss you or make you feel small. I would never treat you the way he does."
She presses her lips together again. "You don't know how he treats me."
"I know he makes you unhappy. I know he doesn't value your work, your dreams, or your intelligence. I know he sees you as property, not as a partner."
"And what do you see me as?"
The question catches me off guard. I'm silent for a moment, trying to find words for something I've never felt before.
"I see you as someone extraordinary," I say finally. "Someone brilliant and passionate and brave. Someone who deserves to be cherished, not controlled. Someone who—" I stop, because I almost saidsomeone I could love.Words that have never come out of my mouth before. I’m not sure I’ve ever told Giulia I love her. I think I do… but I can’t be sure. I don’t know what love feels like. I’ve never had it modeled to me, and I’ve never felt emotions like this before.
Savannah is tense now, and I know I’ve blown it. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not? Because it's true?"
"Because I'm engaged. I'm supposed to marry someone else. This—whatever this is—it can't happen."
"Can't? Or shouldn't?"
She doesn't answer. She just gathers her things with shaking hands. I know I've pushed too far, too fast.
"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have?—"
"I need to go."
"Savannah—"
"Please." She looks at me, and there's so much pain in her eyes it makes my chest ache. "Please just—leave me alone.”
I stand, and every instinct I have is screaming at me to follow her, to not let her leave, to make her understand. But I force myself to stay still. “I’ll try,” I say quietly, but even as the words come out, I know they’re the closest thing to a lie I’ve ever told her.
I could try.
But I know I won’t succeed.
I’ve just made it back to my penthouse, berating myself for taking things too fast with Savannah, when Luca calls.
"Dante wants to see you," he says without preamble. "Tomorrow. His office."
I blow out a sharp breath. "What about?"
"He didn't say. But Romeo—he knows something. I don't know what, but he's suspicious. You need to be careful."
"I'm always careful."
"No, you're not. Not lately. Not when it comes to her."
He's right, but I don't admit it. "I'll handle Dante."
"Will you? Because if he asks you directly about Savannah, about the Beauregard connection, if he’s figured anything about this out—what are you going to tell him?"
"The truth. That she's a classmate and we're working on a project together. There's nothing for him to worry about."
"And if he doesn't believe you?"
“I’ll convince him.”
