I stared at it for a very long time. Then hated myself because the first thought that entered my head wasn’t escape. It was Leo. How his hands felt on my body. How his voice dropped when he called me his wife. How badly I wanted him to touch me again despite everything.
Tears burned behind my eyes, humiliating and unwanted. Because maybe Angelo was right. Maybe I really was stupid enough to fall apart for a man who viewed me as nothing more than a breeding tool. A pretty little weapon against his dead father’s will.
The thought hollowed something inside my chest. I grabbed the card tighter. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I slipped quietly into the hallway.
The penthouse was mostly empty this afternoon. A few guards downstairs. Staff somewhere deeper inside the building. Leo had left hours ago for meetings. Only Sergio remained.
I found him sitting near the kitchen island reading something on his phone while drinking espresso. He looked up when he noticed me. “Morning.”
“I’m getting coffee,” I lied quickly. Sergio narrowed his eyes slightly like he knew perfectly well I was lying but chose not to comment on it. Dangerous man. Not as dangerous as Leo. But close.
He stood after a moment. “I need to take a call downstairs. Stay inside.”
Like I had a choice.
The second he disappeared into the elevator, my pulse exploded. I moved quickly. His phone sat abandoned beside the espresso cup. Every instinct screamed this was a terrible idea. I grabbed it anyway.
My fingers shook so badly I nearly dropped the device while punching the number from Angelo’s card into the screen. One ring. Two. Three.
“About fucking time.” My stomach dropped. Angelo sounded amused already. “You took long enough, cara.”
“I shouldn’t have called,” I whispered.
“No,” he agreed lazily. “But you did.”
I gripped the edge of the marble counter tighter.
“I just…” My throat tightened. “I needed to know if you were lying.”
Angelo laughed softly. Coldly. “About which part?”
The humiliation burned hot across my skin. “About Leo.”
“Oh?” His voice sharpened with interest. “Did cousin Leo finally fuck you?”
Silence betrayed me before words could. Angelo’s laugh deepened. There was no warmth in it at all. “Oh, this is even worse than I thought.”
“Stop.”
“You hesitated,” he mocked softly. “That means I was right.”
My chest tightened painfully. “He’s my husband.”
“And?” Angelo drawled. “You think that means anything to men like us?”
The words landed hard. Cruel because part of me already feared they were true.
“He talks about children constantly, doesn’t he?” Angelo continued casually. “Breeding. Pregnancy. His future heirs.”
I said nothing. Again, silence betrayed me.
“Madonna,” Angelo laughed. “You poor thing.”
“Shut up.”
“You thought he was obsessed with you because you were special?” His voice softened into something almost pitying. “Chiara, he picked you because you’re perfect for producing Moretti heirs.”
Pain sliced through me so sharply I had to look away. I hated that Angelo could hear my breathing change.
