I take a slow breath, and I don’t say anything about what just ran through my head. Instead, I meet his eyes. "I understand,Papa. I won't disappoint you."
Something in his expression softens, just slightly. "I know you won't,piccola. You've always been my good girl. My obedient daughter." He stands, signaling that the conversation is over. "The guests will be arriving soon. Make sure you're downstairs to greet them."
"Yes,Papa." I stand and move toward the door, my legs feeling strangely disconnected from my body, like I'm floating above myself watching this happen to someone else. My hand is on the doorknob when he speaks again.
"Giulia."
I turn back.
“I see you chose your mother’s earrings. A good choice. She was a good wife. She was faithful to the end, and she gave me an heir. Keep her in your mind tonight.”
And then she died before she could ever become a problem.The thought, like the ones that just came before, startles me. It’s not like me to be so reactive, to eventhinkback, much less talk back. I nod, forcing a small smile to my lips.
"Of course,Papa."
I leave his office and close the door behind me. My hands are trembling slightly, and I press them against my stomach, trying to calm the sudden nausea rising in my throat.
This is my life. This has always been my life. I've known since I was a little girl that I would be married off for the family's benefit, that my value lay in what alliance I could bring, what connections I could forge. I've been groomed for this, polished and perfected like a diamond meant to be sold. And I've accepted it, because what choice did I have?
But acceptance and wanting are two very different things. And that difference is suddenly hitting me far too hard.
I reach up and touch one of the earrings. My mother wore these on her wedding day. I wonder if she felt like this too, like she was being led to slaughter in a beautiful dress. I wonder if she ever regretted it.
Down the hall, I can hear the sounds of final preparations—the clink of crystal, the murmur of staff moving through rooms, and the low rumble of male voices. Romeo must be here already, and probably Luca too. My brother's right hand, his best friend,the man who's been a fixture in our house for as long as I can remember.
The man I've been in love with since I was sixteen years old.
I push that thought away as soon as it surfaces, burying it deep where it can't hurt me. Luca is off-limits in every possible way. He's Romeo's best friend, he works for my family, and even if none of that mattered, he's made it abundantly clear since I came back from boarding school that he sees me as nothing more than his best friend's little sister. The easy affection he used to show me is gone, replaced by professional distance and careful politeness.
It shouldn't hurt as much as it does.
I take a deep breath and start to walk down the hall to the entryway of the mansion.
The first floor has been transformed, even more polished and decorative than usual—not unlike me. Every surface gleams, every flower is perfectly arranged, every detail is exactly as it should be. Our chef has outdone himself with the menu, and the dining room table will be set with our finest china and crystal. It's a display of wealth and power, subtle but unmistakable.This is what you could have, it says.This is what an alliance with the Ciresas means.
I find Romeo in the living room, standing by the window with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He's dressed in a tailored dark suit that probably cost more than most people make in a month, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his expression unreadable. When he sees me, something flickers across his face—a hint of guilt mingled with sympathy.
"Giulia," he says, and his voice is gentler than usual. "You look beautiful."
I wince. My brother loves me, in his way, but he’s also a diagnosed sociopath. I’m the only person he ever felt an emotion for, before he met Savannah. Savannah’s ability to make him feelromantic love is the reason he became so obsessed with her and fought so hard for her. His affection for me is something I’ve never taken for granted, but how gentle and careful he’s being now is a testament to what’s being set in motion tonight.
"Thank you." I move to stand beside him, looking out at the driveway where cars will soon be arriving. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"Dante wants me here. Show of family unity." He takes a sip of his drink, and I can feel him watching me. "Are you okay?"
The question surprises me even more. Romeo isn't usually one for emotional check-ins. "I'm fine."
"You don't have to do this, you know. Not if you don't want to."
I almost laugh at that. I can see he means it, but we both know it's not true. "Yes, I do.Papamade that very clear. You’re the heir, Romeo, you can get away with a lot that I can’t. You know that this isn’t optional."
Romeo's jaw tightens. "He's still angry about Savannah. He's taking it out on you."
"He's doing what he thinks is best for the family." The words taste bitter in my mouth, but I say them anyway. "And he's right. Someone needs to stabilize things after… everything that happened."
"That's not your responsibility."
"Isn't it?" I meet his eyes, and I see my own frustration reflected back at me. "I'm a Ciresa, Romeo. This is what we do. This is what's expected of us. I don’t begrudge you getting to do things differently, but it’s just not going to be the same for me. It never was."
