Possibly both.
"Then we have an understanding," I say.
"We do." She extends her hand to seal our agreement, formal as any business contract.
I take it, noting how perfectly her hand fits in mine.
We walk back to the house, maintaining a careful distance that belies our future as husband and wife.
I watch Isabella's profile as she moves next to me.
What lies beneath her polished exterior?
Is she really just a pawn in a life-and-death game I play with her father?
Or does her father offer her to me as a spy?
She slants her gaze to me, a smile playing on her lips that makes my chest feel odd.
It sends a new worry through me.
Is she a woman capable of making me forget who I am and what I must protect?
This wasn't how I imagined my life unfolding.
Marriage was always a distant concept, something for later, after I'd cemented the Dante legacy.
Now it rushes toward me like an oncoming train.
At the same time, I find myself oddly accepting of this situation.
Isabella Vitale is not what I expected.
She's bold where I expected submission.
Intelligent where I expected vapidity.
It will make her a valued ally unless she’s being sent to undermine me.
5
ISABELLA
Father once said my worth lies in knowing when to speak, which really meant knowing when to shut up.
For eighteen years, I've bitten my tongue and kept my face pleasantly blank while my mind filled with unspoken thoughts.
Whether it’s my situation or Alessandro Dante, that restraint falters.
But something about Alessandro Dante unravels my carefully cultivated restraint.
If my father knew I’d demanded Alessandro’s respect, his head would explode.
It’s a surprise and a relief that Alessandro didn’t remind me of my place.
"The flowers are lovely this time of year," he remarks as we make our way back to the house.
"Almost as lovely as the conversation we're pretending to have.” I freeze, horrified.
