Page 15

MARIA

“ T his corset is so tight, I don’t even know how I’m breathing right now… I think…” Ginny’s words fade into the background. My eyes are focused on a man who has not been answering my calls or my texts.

Daniele throws his head back in laughter, and I freeze. He looks so… normal. My life for the past seventy-two hours has been completely upended and ruined, and he stands there like he is having the time of his life.

The annoyance pours into my system faster than I can gather my restraint. My legs are already moving long before my brain has a chance to analyze the situation. Ginny calls after me but I only have one thing on my mind.

Daniele Davacalli.

My strides are long and rushed, afraid that, like the day of my wedding, he will vanish before I can get to him. My blood sizzles with every inch I devour between us.

Be calm. My brain keeps repeating it like a mantra. I need to keep my cool—I am a Davacalli bride, and with that comes an image I must uphold.

When I’m just a few feet away, he looks up, and our eyes lock. The joy slips from his face.

“Daniele.” I come to a halt. “What the hell?”

I have a million and one questions I want to ask but that one slips forward first.

“Maria Faravelli—my mistake—Davacalli. I hear congratulations are in order, step-mommy.”

The crowd he is with snickers, and the blood rushes to my cheeks.

“We need to talk,” I press him. “Preferably somewhere private.”

“How about no?” He winks at me. “Go find your husband, I’m sure he is missing his shiny little trophy.”

I hate how he speaks to me.

“No.” I stand my ground. “We need to talk, you at least owe me that, since you ran from the altar like a coward.”

“I think it’s best that you leave, Maria,” he says in a bored tone. The woman who hangs off his arm smothers a laugh and my cheeks heat.

Enough of this.

I grab his wrist and the blonde gasps, but I ignore her. “Come.”

Surprisingly, the man allows me to pull him away from his group. The man must have a conscious, after all.

I drag him all the way out of the ballroom with every eye on us. I’m sure this little action of mine will cause a plethora of rumors, but to hell with them. I need closure, and he is the only one who can give me that.

We walk until we come to a secluded corner away from the eyes and ears of the masses. I let go of his wrist and turn to give him my full attention.

“What can I help you with?” He places his hands into his pockets nonchalantly, like he didn’t even do anything.

“You’re kidding, right?” I scoff.

He shrugs, his body language completely relaxed and unbothered.

“Do you have any idea what you did to me? One day everything is great and fine, and the next you leave me at the fucking altar, Daniele. You hurt me.” I stare into his eyes.

All my walls are down and I bare my feelings and vulnerability to him. But I don’t get the same back. The man is nothing more than a blank slate, emotionless.

“I don’t understand what you want here, Maria.

An apology? You will never get one out of me.

I did what was best for me and my future.

The last thing I needed was to be tied to someone like you.

” His words pierce me like a knife. “I chose me, and I would have thought you would have the balls to choose yourself. But I should have known you were weak and pathetic.”

“You have some nerve coming at me like that after everything you’ve done,” I grit out through my teeth “I didn’t want to marry you either, but at least I didn’t run with my tail tucked in between my legs like a coward.”

Daniele’s eyes flick to the necklace at my throat before locking on to mine, dark and vengeful in a way I’ve never seen before.

“You shouldn’t even be wearing that necklace. It was my mother’s and my grandmother’s. They were women of true power and formidability. You are nothing more than a meek little waste of space who would be dead within seconds in this world were it not for the Davacalli name.”

The words are a double-edged sword that pierce between my soul and flesh. But it’s not his words that get to me. It’s the hatred in his eyes. But now it also made sense as to why Matteo was being weird about the necklace.

It belonged to his mother first… and then Beatrice.

His first wife. His love. The woman whose presence lingers in the walls of his house, whose ghost still curls up in his bed at night.

The woman he still protects, even in death.

A woman I can never compete with. My stomach twists.

I shouldn’t care. But the sharp sting of bitterness digs its claws into me, unrelenting. Why does it bother me?

Right now, I should be bothered more by how we got to this point and why Daniele left me. Only a few short days ago, there had been light in those irises of his. The caramel brown in his eyes had been molten and warm. I don’t recognize the man who stands before me.

“Why are you being like this?”

He hooks his finger on the diamond-encrusted chain around my neck. “You should take this off. You aren’t even worthy to wear it around your neck.”

I grab his wrist and rip his hold from mine. “I am a Davacalli wife. This necklace belongs to me as much as it did your mother.” The words slip from my lips without intention. But it’s too late to take it all back.

His features contort into a scowl that makes him look all the more dangerous.

“Daniele, I?—”

“You know that you will be nothing more than a whore to him, right?” He steps toward me, the distance between us virtually gone. “He will fuck you and put a baby in you to seal the deal. You are nothing more than an incubator and a means to an end.”

The truth of what he says lodges itself in my throat and refuses to come up.

“It’s a pity your family had to sell you like cattle all because your brother couldn’t dodge a bullet.”

I hear the slap before my palm feels the impact of connecting with his cheek. I stare at him stunned, my eyes moving between my hand and his face in pure and utter shock.

Daniele huffs, but there is no humor in his tone. He turns his head ever so slowly in my direction. I can practically see the steam coming out of his ears. The man’s face is bright red, and his body trembles with rage.

Shit.

“Daniele…” I look around but we are alone in this hallway. I should never have asked to talk with him here. “I think we both need to calm down.”

“So, you’re a tough girl. Funny, I didn’t peg you for much of a fighter.” He leers toward me, his chest rises and falls dramatically as he breathes in heavily. “Let’s see how much of a fight you put up.”

He goes to reach for me, but the roar of a loud voice breaks us apart. I snap my neck to the side and see Matteo storming down the hallway toward us. His face is cool but his steps are deliberate and strong.

He is a man on a mission.

“Oh goody, if it isn’t my daddy dearest come to the rescue of my step-mommy.” The ridicule in his tone is obvious.

“Enough of this, Daniele.” He comes to a halt and drags me behind him, a shield between father and son. “I taught you better than this. Your mother taught you better than to raise a hand to a woman.”

Daniele’s nostrils flare. “Don’t speak about my mother. You went and married her .”

“Only because you ran from your commitment, Daniele. Do you have any idea what you did that day?” Matteo is surprisingly soft with his son. He is never this… gentle when he speaks to other people. “You almost screwed everything up.”

Daniele steps toward his father, and they are now toe to toe. The tension in the air is thick and laden with electrical charge. It feels like one wrong move could set this entire thing on fire.

“I didn’t want to clean up the mess that you made, Papá.” There is an edge to his voice. “I think things worked out exactly how they were supposed to, don’t you think?”

The silence that follows is deafening. The two Davacalli men stand in front of each other. The king and his heir in a faceoff. And all I can do is stand off to the side, praying that this does not come to blows.

Matteo huffs. “Learn your place, Daniele. Or I will teach it to you—I am still your father.”

Daniele clicks his tongue. “How could I forget, Daddy Dearest? Forgive me.”

He steps away from his father and then whips his gaze to meet mine. “Careful, Maria. You’re in bed with the devil.”

“Daniele.” Matteo hisses but it’s too late. His son turns on his heel and makes his way toward the ballroom, leaving me with his father.

The air is laden with tension and anxiety. I have no idea what I just witnessed, but the Daniele who stood in front of me is not the same boy I grew up with back in New York. He isn’t the same man who sat with me for hours on the edge of the pool and talked.

I clear my throat. “I think we should head back. People will be missing us.”

I start to walk in the direction of the ballroom but Matteo’s hand whips out and stops me dead in my tracks. I look over my shoulder at him, confused.

“What?” I pull my hand out of his hold and, surprisingly, he allows me to. “I am getting very tired of men just grabbing me when they feel like it.”

“That necklace—who allowed you to wear that?” The force in his voice throws me. He stares at the necklace like he has seen a ghost. “Who?”

I flinch at the anger in his tone. “Emily. She–she said that it belongs to every Davacalli bride. It’s an heirloom.”

“It was my mother’s,” he quipped. “You have no right to be wearing it.”

It was his previous wife’s necklace.

“That necklace holds a lot of sentimental meaning. You can’t wear it.”