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His comment ignites something inside of me. I raise my left hand and thrust it in his face showing off the ring that he put on my finger. “I am sorry about your wife, Matteo. But you can’t treat me like I am beneath you. I don’t know if you get this but we are married.Married. I am sick and tired of both you and your son discounting what I am and who I am in all of this. I signed that marriage certificate just like you did. We both said yes to this. And I am your wife; as much as it might pain you to see me with this on, it deserves to be on my neck.”

He is silent. He doesn’t answer me back; he simply watches me, taking in my little outburst.

“I need some air.” I walk away from him, leaving him standing in the hallway alone. There is a part of me that wants him to chase after me. A part of me wants him to stop me and apologize for what he said and what Daniele said. But it never happens.

I quicken my pace, nearly breaking into a run as I round the corner. I can feel the emotion raging through my veins and I need to feel the air on my face. I run down the hallway and make my way to the balcony door. When I breathe through into the cool air, I let go of the breath I have been holding.

Fuck him. The tears prick my eyes. I try to hold them back but they betray me and tumble one after the other from my eyes.

A low broken sob escapes my lips and my heart cracks only by a few inches, but it is enough to have me latching on to the stone ledge and gasping for air. I don’t want to cry; men likeDaniele do not deserve my tears, but his words play over and over again in my mind.

I blink to the night sky, searching for some kind of sign, an answer of sorts. I am surrounded by luxury, power, and wealth, yet I feel like a captured bird, unable to fly. What is it to gain the world but to lose your freedom?

“A pretty woman should never have tears in her eyes.”

I jump at the voice that comes from the shadows on the other side of the balcony. I swipe at my tears, looking for the speaker.

“Who’s there?” I tried to make my voice sound decisive and firm but it came out meekly.

A man dressed in an all-black suit and a scar that travels down the side of his jaw walks into the light. The smile that splits his lips can only be described as eerie. There is a dead look in his eyes, like there is no soul behind the glass.

“Forgive me.” He steps toward me, and I take a step back on instinct, feeling the growing threat.

Shit. That is a mistake. The smile on his lips deepens. I have no idea who this man is, but I know his kind well. They feed off fear. They indulge in making people feel uncomfortable, and often seek out the weak in order to exploit them.

“No need to be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you, little dove.” He steps closer, but this time I hold my nerve. “Good, was that so hard?”

“Who are you?” I jut my chin up to feign confidence. “It’s creepy that you were just waiting in the shadows.”

I observe him for a moment and take him in. Raven black hair and icy blue eyes that penetrate right through your flesh. He carries an air about him that unsettles me.

“I was here first,” he shoots back. “If anything, you disturbed my private moment with your tears.”

“I was not crying.” I look away from his gaze. “I just needed a breather.”

“No need to defend yourself from me, Maria. We all need our moments.”

My head whips to him so fast, I fear I may get whiplash. “How do you know my name?”

The smile returns to his face. “I make it my business to know all the important people. And you, my dear, happen to be the most important piece in the board.”

A shiver runs down my spine but I try to not to let it show.

“You are far better-looking than the last, I must say.” His eyes move over my face, drinking in every single feature on display. “I guess he got lucky by grabbing a young one. Oh, forgive me, where are my manners?”

Without warning, the guy grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him. He lowers his head and presses a kiss on my skin, and I recoil.

“My name is Giacomo Feriama. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He lifts his gaze from the back of my hand and looks up at me. “You are far more beautiful in person, I must say.”

I try to pull my wrist from his hold but his grip just tightens. He straightens to his full height and pulls me toward him.

“Don’t be rude, little dove. Why don’t you accept my advances?”

“Let go of me,” I hiss through my teeth. “You are making a huge mistake. My husband?—”

“Matteo Davacalli.” He smiles but this one has far more malice behind it. “I know him well. In fact, we happened to fuck the same girl once upon a time. Maybe we could do that again?”

Giacomo leans into me. I try to shy away from his face but the wall behind me provides no room to maneuver. I pull at the arm locked tightly in his grip and inch away from him, but no matter how hard I try, he won’t budge.