My mouth goes dry, and I consider turning around, walking out.
But she catches my hesitation, tightening the robe around herself with a sharp tug at the lapels.
The gesture makes me see that she's actually more covered now than she was in that dress earlier.
I enter the room, deliberately leaving the door open behind me to protect us both.
I just have to hope no one can hear us.
"I came to apologize," I say, keeping my distance, hands shoved in my pockets to stop them from reaching for her. "I was harsh earlier. In the car."
Her eyes meet mine. The vulnerability there guts me.
"Harsh?" She laughs without humor. "You made me feel like a stupid little girl playing at being a woman."
"That's not—" I inhale sharply, frustration building. "Valentina, do you have any idea what you're doing? What game are you playing? This isn't some romance novel where we run off into the sunset together."
"I never asked for that," she snaps.
I step closer, careful to stay far enough away that I won't be tempted. "Do you understand what would happen if your brothers found out? If Maksim found out?" My voice drops lower. "Alessandro would put a bullet in my head himself. And Maksim? He'd start a war that begins with torturing you before killing you."
Her chin lifts defiantly, but I can see the fear in her eyes.
"I'm not just saying no to protect my own life," I continue. "Though make no mistake, touching you is a death sentence for me. But I'm saying no because I care too much about you to let you throw everything away for a moment's pleasure."
"Is that all it was to you?" she whispers. "A moment's pleasure?"
"No," I admit, despite wanting to lie. "And that's what makes it so goddamn dangerous."
She rises from the bed, the movement causing the robe to shift slightly. I force my eyes to stay on hers.
"If I'm going to suffer through a lifetime with that monster," she says, "I at least want to know what it feels like to be with someone who sees me. Really sees me."
I close my eyes, fighting for control. "I can't be the man who gives you that. Not if I want us both to survive."
Her shoulders slump.
The fierce, defiant Valentina Dante has been reduced to a defeated woman.
It tears me apart that I've contributed to her pain.
"What does it matter, anyway?" Her voice is flat. "Whether I die at twenty-one or eighty, my life isn't my own. It never has been."
"Don't talk like that."
"Why not? It's the truth." She looks up at me, and the emptiness in her gaze makes me want to kill Alessandro and Maksim. "I know I agreed to it, but what choice did I really have?”
My hands clench at my sides knowing she’s right.
That some lives are worth more than others.
That hers is worth less than her brothers', and yet, worth enough to be used like currency.
Her laugh is bitter. "And for what? A temporary peace that'll shatter the moment Maksim feels slighted… or Alessandro?" She stops suddenly, facing me. "My whole life reduced to being a commodity, and I don't even get to choose who I give my body to first?"
I want to cross the room, take her in my arms, promise her protection I can't provide.
I want to tell Alessandro to go to hell, grab her hand, and run. But those are fantasies, not solutions.
