She lifted her head. Those green eyes were red-rimmed, tears tracking down her cheeks.
"I just wanted to open the window for air," she said, her voice rough. "I bumped the table and the vase just... I'm sorry. I didn't know it was so important to you. I can pay for it."
"No," I said.
She froze.
"Sir!" Margaret's voice climbed higher. "That was from Miss Colonna—"
"What's her last name?" I asked, cutting Margaret off.
Margaret stared at me. "W-what?"
"Her last name," I said. "What is it?"
"A-Adrian."
"Visconti," I said, each word falling sharp and clear. "She's Mrs. Visconti. You call her miss?"
Margaret's lips moved soundlessly.
"It's broken, so it's done," I said, sweeping my eyes over the shards. "Clean it up. Then replace every flower in this manor." I turned my head toward Olivia. "What flowers do you like?"
She hesitated, like she hadn't expected the question to land on her. "Um...jasmine."
"Jasmine," I said, turning back. "Every room. Hallways, dining room, everywhere. I don't want to see anything else for the rest of the month."
Margaret stood there, mouth opening and closing, but one look at my face shut her down. She bowed her head. "Y-yes, sir."
"The pieces," I said. "Clean them before we leave. You don't, youdon't come back tomorrow."
I didn't look at her again. I turned and headed for the door. "Let's go. We're going to be late."
In the car, she sat next to me, hands folded over her rounded belly, not saying a word.
I watched the city slide past the window. Stayed quiet.
Tony was smooth with the wheel—been my driver for twelve years, didn't have a mistake in him. But I caught her gripping her dress, then letting go, then gripping it again.
"You okay?" I asked, not turning my head.
She looked over at me, a little surprised.
"Yeah," she said. "I just wanted to...thank you."
Her voice was soft, careful—different from how she usually talked. There was something almost pleading about it.
I felt something shift in my chest. Uncomfortable.
"Don't have to," I said. "I just did what a husband should do."
"No, that's not it," she said. "I mean the vase. That was from someone important to you, right? It should have meant something, and I didn't mean to—"
"Already told you. Not important."
"But—"
"Olivia."
