This is real.
My heart starts to pound harder.
"I'm giving you a choice, Valentina," he says, his voice dropping lower. "A real one."
My chest tightens painfully because he's never done that before. In all the weeks since he walked into my life and turned everything upside down, he's never once given me a choice about anything. I just test and take what I can get away with.
"And what exactly is in there?" I ask, nodding toward the envelope even though I'm not sure I want to know.
"Identification. Cash. Access to accounts under a new name." He pauses, letting that sink in. "Five million dollars."
I blink.
"What?"
"It's clean," he continues in that same calm, measured tone. "Completely untraceable. Enough for you to go anywhere you want, be anyone you want. Start over, however you see fit."
My fingers curl into fists at my sides as I try to process what he's saying.
"You're serious."
"Yes."
I shake my head slowly, taking a step toward the desk but not touching the envelope.
"Why?"
That's the part I don't understand. The part that doesn't fit with everything I know about this man.
Salvatore Vitale doesn't give. He takes.
He doesn't offer freedom. He demands surrender.
He doesn't let go of things that belong to him.
And I belong to him; he's made that abundantly clear from the moment he decided I was going to marry him.
So why is he doing this now?
"Because if you stand at that altar tomorrow," he says, his voice going even quieter, "I want it to be because you chose me. Not because you had no other option. Not because I trapped you or forced you or left you with no way out."
"And if I don't?" I whisper.
He takes a deep breath, a muscle jumping beneath the skin.
"Then I'll know you made your choice."
Silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.
My eyes drop back to the envelope.
Five million dollars.
A new identity.
Freedom.
No rules.
