Page 44

"Yes.One of the few properties that belonged solely to Elena Ravelli, not connected to the family empire. My father either forgot about it, or, in what is more likely the case, didn't care enough to claim it after her death."

Francesca's eyes widen as they peer out the window. "It's beautiful."

"It's secure," I correct her, though something in my chest warms at her appreciation. "Which is what matters now."

The car pulls into the courtyard. An elderly couple emerges from the villa—Romano and Maria, caretakers of this place since before I was born.

As I help Francesca exit the vehicle, Romano approaches with a respectful nod, Maria not far behind him.

"Signor Ravelli. It has been many years."

"Too many, Romano," I acknowledge, shaking his weathered hand with a firm grip. "I trust everything is prepared as requested?"

"Si, signore. The villa is secure, fully stocked. Just as your message specified."

"Grazie,Romano.My deepest apologies for the last minute interruption."

"No, sir. No apology needed."

I turn to Francesca, who stands taking in the property with careful eyes. Not just its beauty, but its strategic vulnerabilities, its defensive capabilities. My clever, dangerous woman.

"Francesca… Romano and Maria will see to your every need and wish while we are here," I tell her, placing my hand at the small of her back. She smiles at Romano as he takes her hand and kisses the back of it. "They are the only staff here. Completely loyal, completely discreet."

She nods, understanding the layers beneath my words. We are hidden here, but not completely alone. There are still eyes, still rules, still boundaries.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," she says to the elderly couple, her innate grace apparent even in travel-wrinkled clothing, even on minimal sleep.

Maria's eyes twinkle as she observes us. "The pleasure is ours, signora. It is good to see the young master with a woman worthy of this house."

Francesca's surprise at the warm welcome is visible only to me as Romano leads the way up the path. I guide her inside, through arched doorways of the villa and sun-dappled corridors to the master suite.

The room is exactly as I remembered.

Terracotta floors, whitewashed walls, a massive four-poster bed in the center of the room. The huge floor-to-ceiling windowsopen onto a private terrace with views that stretch endlessly into the Italian countryside.

"You can see the entire valley from here," I explain, moving to the windows. "No one approaches without being spotted well in advance."

She joins me at the window, her shoulder brushing mine. "Always the strategist, Mr. Ravelli."

"Always thesurvivor," I correct her. "The property might hold it's antique and rustic beauty, but it has been upgraded with modern security. Cameras, motion sensors, reinforced doors... you get the idea. You'll be safe here."

"Safe from what, exactly?" she asks, turning to face me fully. "Your brother? Or whatever your plans are for the Ravelli throne?"

I study her, this woman who sees too much, who asks questions others wouldn't dare.

"From whatever comes next. My princess, if the masquerade party made one thing abundantly clear… it's that Luca's position at the summit is stronger than I anticipated. His alliance with the Volkovs, combined with the child of their blood..."

I trail off, unwilling to voice the strange hollowness that gripped me seeing Bianca's rounded belly, seeing my brother touch her with such obvious tenderness.

I watch Francesca's profile against the fading Italian light. The sunset catching in her hair transforms it to copper and fire.

"At the time of our trade, the Volkovs were supposed to be loyal to me," I say, my voice low with barely contained fury. "I made the arrangements. I paid in blood."

I flex my decimated hand, the phantom pain of my missing finger a constant reminder of what I've sacrificed in my attempts to gain the upper hand.

Francesca turns to me, her eyes sharp. "The Castellano-Ravelli alliance wasn't enough."

"No," I admit, the word bitter on my tongue. "Blood trumps business, it seems."