She looked at him then with that fake smile he detested welded into place and no hint of the Leontina he thought he knew in those dark jade eyes. Darker than usual, he thought. And far blanker. “As you wish, husband,” she said.
So demurely it made him frown at her, and he was sure he saw an answering flare of the heat he knew—
But the castle doors were opening. And the staff took one look at Leontina, got wide-eyed, and ushered them both inside with his security detail at his heels.
“Welcome home,” one of the staff murmured to Leontina, though the look on her face was more…concernedthan welcoming.
The smile Leontina gave the woman was not fake. “I am not returning, I assure you,” she said quietly. “Only visiting.”
Pau thought the other woman looked relieved.
He found he was clenching his teeth, though this time it was because it was only occurring to him that he’d come up with this plan of his when he hadn’t known Leontina. He’d decided exactly how it would end, but he’d made these decisions before he’d met her. Before he’d held her. Before she’d told him the stories of how she’d lived here for so long.
Before she’d begun to matter to him in ways he wasn’t sure he knew how to articulate, even to himself.
That he hadn’t thought to consider howshemight feel about having to return here at all, much less to be paraded in front of her nasty father like the spoils of war—well.
Perhaps Pau had more in common with the father his mother had left than he cared to admit.
It was a long march through the old building, winding this way and that. Leontina was wearing absurdly high heels, though they did not seem to slow her down any. They clicked against the marble and stone impressively as she walked, somehow adding to her mystique in ways he felt take shape inside him. Though he wasn’t sure he could name them.
Possibly because the only name in his head was hers.
All Pau knew was that his hunger for her had never been higher. Maybe it was because they were back here in this castle and the last time they had been here, they’d spent an epic night together. More than simply enjoying each other, repeatedly, they had created their son.
It was difficult not to look back and consider that night magical now.
He just wished she hadn’t said those words. He would have done anything to rewind time, to keep her from saying them out loud.
Even if it meant it took longer to reach this stage in his end game.
That thought hit him like another unexpected hook to the mouth. Since when had he ever—ever—let anything come between him and his revenge? Even hypothetically?
But they had arrived at a set of ostentatious doors where a man dressed entirely in unctuous black stood.
“The master waits within,” the man said, deferentially, and bowed.
Then he stood and turned crisply, throwing open the two doors at once in what was, clearly, a piece of deliberate choreography.
“Enter, please, the chamber ofUmberto Tavianhimself,” the man in black intoned, like he was auditioning for town crier.
But the bland look Leontina sent him made Pau think that all of this was a bit of theater for an audience of one. And not an unusual occurrence.
He took that as a good sign, because surely if they’d been brought to some kind of execution chamber, she would have reacted differently. Not that he really thought Umberto wouldkillhim. That wasn’t how the old bastard operated. He preferred to come at people financially, because ruin was more fun.
Still, Pau didn’t expect this to bepleasant, either way.
The man in black was waiting for them and the doors were open, so Pau took Leontina’s arm and ushered her in with him to what he assumed was Umberto’s questionable version of a throne room. It was a sitting room of sorts, but was done all in gold. Some of it real gold, he could see. It was a travesty of taste, but then, he supposed that was the point. It was so opulent, so over the top, that its only purpose had to be for Umberto to flatter himself with his own wealth.
After all, it wasn’thisblood that built this castle. It hadn’t beenhisancestors who had tied themselves to this land, marking time with the fields they’d tilled and the villages they’d built. This castle had been built by nobility as a fortress many centuries ago in wars forgotten by most, and had fallen in and out of disrepair since. Umberto had divested the last remaining blood relative of that once-noble line of the last of his funds, self-respect, and possessions in one fell swoop.
Umberto had called it a business deal.
But like most of his deals, it had ruined everyone else involved.
This castle was a monument to the epic, soulless greed of a man who took things and broke them simply because he could.
And this throne room was perhaps the ghastliest example of money failing to buy taste that Pau had ever seen.
