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Her eyes widen slightly but she recovers quickly, shoulders dropping in a practiced show of resignation.
"I wasn't in love with him," she says, voice soft and wounded. "I couldn't go through with it."
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "Not in love?" I lean forward, elbows on my knees. "That's the best you could come up with?"
Color rises in her cheeks. "Is that so hard to believe? That I wouldn't want to marry a man three times my age?"
"No," I say, studying her face. "What's hard to believe is that a woman smart enough to coordinate her own escape from the Lombardi compound, with a bag packed and a getaway car arranged, would risk her father's wrath over something as trivial as love."
She blinks rapidly, the perfect picture of a confused socialite. "I don't know what you're implying. I just—I couldn't marry him. That's all."
"That'sall," I repeat, my voice flat with disbelief. "Your father is offering thirty million dollars for your return and you expect me to believe that this is about wedding jitters?"
Her composure slips for just a moment—a flash of genuine fear in those tiger eyes before the mask slides back into place.
"Daddy's always been overprotective," she says with a forced little laugh. "He probably thinks I've been kidnapped."
"Which you have been," I remind her.
"A fortunate coincidence." She smiles sweetly. "You saved me the train fare."
I stand, reaching into my pocket for the USB drive. Her eyes track my movement, stretching as the black titanium device appears between my fingers.
"Interesting little toy you've got here," I say, examining it. "Military-grade encryption. Biometric security." I turn it over, watching her face. "Not exactly standard equipment for a runaway bride."
Her composure cracks—a flash of naked panic before she schools her features.
"That's private property," she says, voice tight.
"Nothing's private when you're a guest of the Feretti family." I lower the USB to the floor and position my boot over it. "Now, I need answers. Real ones."
She rises halfway off the bed, hand outstretched. "Don't?—"
Her eyes remain fixed on my foot, her breathing shallow and quick.
"I'll ask one more time." I shift my weight, applying more pressure to the drive. "Why were you running? What's stored on this that's worth thirty million dollars?"
She swallows hard. "Please... you have no idea what you're holding."
"Then explain it to me." I rock my heel against the drive. "Or I crush it right now."
"You can't!" The controlled socialite vanishes and is replaced by raw desperation. "People will die if that information is destroyed!"
"What people?"
"Many people." Her voice trembles. "Children. Women. Hundreds of them."
I apply more pressure, watching the panic bloom across her face.
"Last chance,piccola. Full truth or—" I shift my weight, the metal casing creaking under my boot.
"Stop!" she screams, lunging forward. "I'll tell you everything! Just don't break it!"
The fear in her eyes isn't contrived now. It's primal. The real deal.
I ease the pressure but keep my foot hovering in place. "I'm listening."
CHAPTER 5