I’ve been fucking him for weeks now, using Liesl as a cover, and my father has been so pleased that I’m being such a dutiful daughter and making such a good match that he hasn’t protested me spending so much time with a friend. I’ve positioned it as talking about wedding planning, as spending time with my friends before I become a wife, and he’s swallowed it all.
But now it’s going to be over soon. And I’m going to have to give up the one man who has ever made me feel like this, the man whose touch sets me on fire. The man who doesn't know that the woman he's falling for and the woman he can never have are the same person.
I nod, forcing myself to keep up the facade. "Thank you, Father. I'm honored by your choice."
The lie comes easily now. Too easily. I've been lying for so long that the truth feels like a foreign language.Six months. I can maybe keep seeing Luca for that long, but likely I’ll have to end it before then. The closer we get to the wedding, the moredemands there will be on my time, and the shorter my leash will become. I have no idea, really, how much longer I can keep doing this.
"Good." He stands, signaling that the conversation is over. "Alessandro will be joining us for dinner tonight. I expect you to be gracious."
"Of course."
I leave his office on steady legs, my expression calm, my breathing even. I make it all the way to my room before the shaking starts.
Six weeks.
Six months.
The numbers echo in my head like a countdown to my own execution.
I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the wall, and I think about all the ways my life is about to end. Not literally—I'll still be breathing, still be walking around, still be performing the role of Giulia Ciresa—soon to be Ferrucci. But the part of me that's real, that's mine, that belongs to no one but myself, that part will die the moment I say "I do."
And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
—
Alessandro arrives at seven,and he's exactly as pleasant and appropriate as he always is.
He brings flowers and compliments my dress—a pale pink thing that makes me look young and innocent. He makes conversation with my father about business, politics, and all the things that men like them care about. And I sit there and smile and nod and play my part.
Dinner is interminable. Course after course of food I can barely taste, conversation that flows around me like I’m not even there. Alessandro pays more attention to my father than to me tonight, asking him question after question about business and the Ciresa interests. After dinner, he asks if he can walk me to the garden. My father nods approvingly, and I have no choice but to agree.
The night air is cool against my skin, and I can smell jasmine and roses and the faint scent of cigarette smoke from one of the guards stationed near the perimeter. Alessandro walks beside me, his hands clasped behind his back, and for a few minutes neither of us speaks.
"Your father told me he's made his decision," he says finally, and there's something careful in his voice. Like he's testing the waters. "About the engagement."
"Yes." My voice sounds distant. "He told me this morning."
"And how do you feel about it?"
The question surprises me. Most men in Alessandro's position wouldn't ask. I don’t know if he actually cares or if he just wants me to believe he does. And I don't know how to answer him.
How do I feel? Trapped. Desperate. Like I'm drowning, and no one can see me going under. But I can't say any of that. He doesn’t want to hear it, and it wouldn’t matter even if I said it. And any friction I cause will only upset my father and make it more likely he’ll pull my leash taut sooner rather than later, ending any ability I have to sneak out and see Luca.
"I'm honored," I say instead, the lie smooth and practiced. "Your family is well-respected, and I know my father has made a wise choice."
He chuckles. “That sounds like a line. Do you really feel that way?”
I bite my lip, turning to look at him. "I barely know you," I say carefully. "But from what I do know, I think we could build something good together. Something stable."
It’s not a lie, exactly. We probably could, if I wanted him at all. I’m smart enough to know that a good marriage doesn’t have to be one of explosive passion; mutual respect and attraction are a good enough foundation. Better than a lot of marriages in our world. He seems to feel those things for me, but I don’t feel them for him, and that’s the problem.
I can see that he’s attractive, but I don’t want him, not when I’ve had Luca. Any possibility of wanting another man in any way is gone for me now. And I have no idea how I’m going to bear anyone else’s touch on my skin. How am I going to let another man inside me. How I can go through with this?—
Alessandro nods slowly, like he's considering my words. Then he steps closer, and I have to fight the urge to step back.
He leans in and kisses me.
His lips are warm and dry, and completely wrong. There's no spark, no heat, no sense of rightness. I have to fight not to recoil, to let him kiss me and just play the chaste, innocent virgin.
