“Ah,” Edoardo said, his gaze dragging over me. “So this is the little bride.”
I stepped back. Angelo did not move to protect me. That was when the last fragile piece of hope inside me broke.
“No,” I whispered.
Edoardo laughed. It was a wet, unpleasant sound. “No? That is not a very grateful greeting.”
I looked at Angelo. He watched me with an expression almost like apology. Almost.
“You said you would help me,” I said.
“I am helping you,” Angelo replied.
“By bringing me to him?” I bit out.
“By getting you away from Leo.”
Edoardo moved deeper into the room, his shoes whispering over the rug. “My nephew has always been greedy. Even as a boy. If he saw something beautiful, he took it apart to see why it shone.”
My skin crawled as his gaze dropped to my legs.
“He does not appreciate delicate things.” He smirked.
“I am not a thing,” I said.
Both men looked amused. That frightened me more than anger would have.
“No,” Angelo said softly. “You’re leverage.”
The word went through me like a blade.
Edoardo poured himself a drink from the bar. “The marriage can be challenged.”
My blood went cold. “What?”
“The Moretti heir married a girl under fraudulent circumstances,” Edoardo said, swirling amber liquid in his glass. “A frightened child coerced by reputation, force, and family pressure. It is ugly. Very ugly.”
“You don’t care about that,” I reminded him.
“No,” he said pleasantly. “I don’t.”
Angelo came closer, stopping just out of reach. “Leo needs you. More than he should. More than he knows how to hide.”
“He needs an heir,” I said, and the words tasted like blood.
“Yes,” Angelo said. “But not only that.”
I shook my head. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” His gaze flicked to my hand. “Why are you still wearing his ring?”
I looked down. The diamond burned on my finger. I hated myself for not taking it off.
Edoardo’s smile widened. “Sentimental already.”
I yanked at the ring. It didn’t move easily. My fingers were too swollen from cold, panic, and all the running. The harder I pulled, the more desperate I looked. Angelo caught my wrist. I froze. His grip wasn’t painful. That somehow made it worse.
“Careful,” he said. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
