She visibly relaxed. Interesting. I stood slowly again.
“You know,” I said casually, “one day I’ll take you and Chiara to the zoo.”
Sienna gasped like I’d offered her the moon. “A real zoo?”
“Yes.”
“With giraffes?” She clapped her hands together.
“If you want. And zebras.”
“And penguins?” she gasped.
“Sure.”
“And snakes?” At this thought, she shivered a little.
I smirked slightly. “Especially snakes. And I’ll show you that they’re not so scary. If you don’t piss them off.”
Chapter Seventeen: CHIARA
Iwoketosilence.Notthe soft, peaceful kind. The kind that felt wrong.
Cold sheets tangled around my legs as I blinked slowly at the ceiling of the bridal suite, sunlight pouring gold through the massive windows overlooking the estate grounds below. For one disorienting second, I forgot where I was. Then I smelled him.
Leo.
Dark cologne and expensive whiskey soaked into the pillows beside me, tangled with the memory of his hands all over my body the night before. Heat crept up my throat. My thighs pressed together on instinct, sore in a way that made humiliation burn through me all over again.
God. I squeezed my eyes shut. The wedding. The vows. His mouth on mine at the altar. The way he touched me afterward like he meant to ruin me from the inside out.
My husband. The word made something twist sharply in my chest.
I turned my head toward the empty side of the bed. The sheets there were already cold. Leo had been gone for a while. Of course he had. Men like him didn’t linger after taking what they wanted.
I pushed myself upright carefully, wincing as soreness pulled through my hips and lower back. My wedding dress was gone, replaced by folded clothes laid neatly across the velvet chaise near the fireplace. Someone had already cleaned the room.
Of course they had. Everything around Leo moved with terrifying precision. Outside the suite, muffled voices drifted through the hallway. Men. Guards. Movement. We were leaving soon.
A strange panic crawled through me at the thought of going back to the city with him. Back to that glass prison in the sky. Back to his world where every door locked from the outside and every person obeyed him without hesitation.
I forced myself out of bed. The marble floor was freezing beneath my bare feet as I crossed the room. My reflection caught in the mirror beside the wardrobe and stopped me cold.
I looked different. Not physically. Not really. But something in my face had changed overnight.
My blonde hair fell loose around my shoulders, tangled from sleep and Leo’s hands. My lips looked swollen. There was a faint purple bruise near my collarbone shaped suspiciously like fingers. Ownership. My stomach turned violently.
I grabbed the silk robe hanging nearby and wrapped it tightly around myself before stepping into the hallway. The estate buzzed with activity downstairs. Men in dark suits moved through the grand entrance hauling luggage, speaking quietly into earpieces while staff hurried around them. Black SUVs lined the circular driveway outside like a funeral procession.
Nobody looked directly at me. But they all noticed me. I could feel it.
The way conversations lowered when I passed. The way guards subtly straightened. The way staff became very interested in the floor.
Not because I was Chiara Ventura anymore. Because I belonged to Leo Moretti now. The realization made me feel sick.
“Good morning, cousin.” My entire body stiffened. I knew that voice.
Angelo Moretti leaned lazily against one of the marble columns near the staircase, looking like sin wrapped in an expensive tailored suit. Dark hair perfectly styled. Sharp jaw. Beautiful smile. Too beautiful. It made him worse somehow. Because underneath all that charm lived something rotten.
