But the machine had screamed.
And four pairs of eyes were on me now.
Vincenzo—seething with fury.
Ciro—cold and unrelenting.
Renzo—torn.
And Violet—silent. Watching. Waiting. Triumphant.
My hands trembled slightly as I turned my back to them.
Just enough.
Just enough to give myself the illusion of privacy.
My shoulders hunched instinctively.
My fingers slid beneath the neckline of my dress.
Slow. Careful.
Then deeper—
Past the fabric—
Past the lace—
Until my fingers brushed something cold.
Metal.
My breath stuttered.
No.
That wasn’t—
My fingers closed around it.
I froze for half a second.
Heart pounding violently.
Then—
Slowly—
Carefully—
I pulled it out.
A gold ring.
Simple. Old-fashioned.
Delicate filigree wrapping around the band.
