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I hesitate, eyes lingering on the photographs of my mother with both families. So many questions burn on my tongue, but Teresa's warning is clear.

This exploration has already crossed boundaries that might cost me dearly.

With a last glance at my mother's face—young, vibrant, connected to this world I've been thrust into—I follow Teresa from the room, questions still churning in my blood.

She escorts me through the mansion with brisk efficiency, taking paths I hadn't known existed. We cross through servants' corridors and hidden staircases that bypass the main halls where we might be observed by prying eyes.

"Teresa," I say as we approach Luca's wing. "You've served this family for decades. You knew my mother when that photograph was taken, didn't you?"

She doesn't slow her pace, doesn't turn to face me.

"I have served the Ravellis since before Luca was born. I have seen the rise and fall of empires within these walls. And I have learned when to speak and when to remain silent."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you'll get from me." Her voice carries a note of finality that brooks no argument. "Whatever you think you've discovered tonight, Bianca, I advise you to forget it. For your own safety."

We reach the doors to Luca's wing, and Teresa pauses, finally turning to face me fully.

"Your husband is a dangerous man," she says, voice lowered though we stand alone in the corridor. "But there are secrets in this house that would make even him tremble. Tread carefully,piccola. The ground beneath your feet is not as solid as it seems."

Before I can respond, the doors swing open, revealing Luca himself—jacket discarded, shirt sleeves rolled to reveal the inked forearms that have held me, claimed me, marked me as his own.

His eyes move from my face to Teresa's, gray ice that gives nothing away but promises a reckoning.

"There you are, little wife," he says, voice deceptively soft. "I've been looking for you."

Teresa bows her head slightly. "Mrs. Ravelli required some air, sir. I was just escorting her back to your quarters."

His eyes narrow fractionally. He doesn't believe her. Of course he doesn't.

"Thank you, Teresa," he dismisses her with cold courtesy. "I'll take care of my wife now."

The words carry a double edge that sends a shiver down my spine. Teresa hesitates for just a moment, her eyes finding mine in a silent warning before she retreats, leaving me alone with the predator I've married.

Luca steps aside, gesturing for me to enter our wing. The movement is graceful, controlled, but I don't miss the tension coiled in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes.

He knows where I've been.

What I've seen.

And fuck… I'm in trouble.

As I pass him, his hand shoots out, fingers circling my wrist in a grip that's just shy of painful. He pulls me close, his breath hot against my ear as he speaks words meant for me alone.

"You smell of the east wing, little rabbit," he murmurs. "Of secrets and defiance. Both of which come with a price."

I should be afraid. Should lower my eyes and beg forgiveness. Instead, I meet his gaze directly, chin lifted in the way he both punishes and craves.

"Then I guess it's time to pay," I respond, voice steadier than my racing heart.

Something flickers in his eyes—rage, yes, but beneath it, a dark hunger that matches my own.

He's angry that I've disobeyed, that I've crossed the boundaries he's set. But there's something else there too. Pride, perhaps. Respect for the woman strong enough to challenge him on his own territory.

"Oh,little rabbit," he says, fingers tightening on my wrist as he leads me deeper into his domain, toward the hidden room where pleasure and pain blur into something transcendent. "You have no idea what your defiance is going to cost you tonight."

And as I follow him willingly toward my punishment, I realize I'm not just submitting to his dominance. I'm pursuing my own path toward the truth, one that runs parallel to his control but remains stubbornly mine.