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"I can give you that," she says quickly. Too quickly. "I can give you everything."

"I know you can, but you aren't ready," I insist. "You're seventeen. Let's at least wait until your birthday."

"But I—"

"We can make a deal." I smile reassuringly. "You can tell people we're engaged. That I proposed. We'll just keep this our little secret. And it will be something to look forward to in a few months when your birthday comes around. Would you like that?"

"I suppose," she mutters.

"I know you expected more," I say. "But I need to be fair to both of us. You're just a kid."

"I'm not a kid."

"Nicoletta." I grin. "You're seventeen. Not just a kid. Jail bait."

She smiles at that, finally nodding as I finish speaking.

I'm grateful for this since our time together is running out and Gustavo will surely come barging in here any second to escort me out. "So what do you say?" I ask. "Can you keep our little secret?"

"Of course." She smiles. "As long as I can lie to everyone."

"What a little minx." I laugh out loud. "Tell whoever you want."

"Perfect." Her eyes glitter with mischief just as there's a knock on the door. "Come in!"

Gustavo enters along with my brother.

Nicoletta shrieks, throwing her arms around her father's shoulders. "We're engaged, we're engaged!"

Well, she sure as hell took advantage of me letting her lie to everyone.

Something tells me little Nicoletta Carlucci isn't quite as innocent as her father wants her to be.

12

Marzia

Adrian is set to return today. I've been fooling myself, thinking I don't want him here, but I do. I've felt lonely and abandoned since he's been gone, unnoticed by everyone around me, as if I'm invisible.

The only human contact I have is Eleanora, and I'm immeasurably grateful for my maid who provides a welcome reprieve from the quiet corners of my mind. Even though she doesn't speak, her mere presence is a comfort.

I haven't been able to ask Eleanora anything about Vitto and my brother. I wonder how she got the letter and whether there will be more to come. My questions are answered when she hands me a pad of papers and a pen the next day. She wants me to write them back.

I sit in front of the fireplace, nervously tapping my pen against paper. I don't know what to tell them. Don't know how to put my feelings into paper. Shame burns my cheeks as I begin writing, crossing things out, throwing paper after paper into the fireplace. I feel guilty for not being more torn up about my parents' death. About losing our family home. I feel awful because try as I might I can't quite bring myself to hate Adrian. I hate his father, but I've always had a blind spot for Adrian, and no matter how hard I try to tell myself I want him dead, the truth is far away from that.

Finally, I write a short letter, telling myself they'll have to understand my confusion. I express my concern for Luigi and even force myself to ask about Vitto and how he's doing. I hand the letter to Eleanora.

She wordlessly pockets it and leaves my room.

After she disappears, I stand in front of the mirror as I run through the events of the past week in my head, thinking about Eleanora, about Adrian, about Bruno Bernardi. I wonder if I'll ever get out of here alive. If there's any hope left for me.

I glance at the door wondering when Eleanora will be back. I want to try another canvas painting today before Adrian gets back, because I'm not sure I can hand over the one I did of Adrian. I don't think I could bear him looking at his likeness in the painting while I watch—it would be awfully embarrassing.

As I stare at the door, my brows knit together. Am I imagining things or is the door slightly open?

My heart begins to pound. I can't believe this is real. Surely, it's too soon for this to be a sign from Eleanora that it's time for me to escape. I bite my lower lip, wondering what to do. As quietly as I can, I walk over to the door and test it, making sure it's really open.

It is.

I rush through the room nervously, trying to decide what to take with me. But I barely have any time. I could get busted any second now and when I do, my chance of escape will be gone. They'll reprimand Eleanora and I'll have an even smaller chance of ever getting out of this house.

Without hesitation, I sneak out of the room and into the hallway. There's no one around, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the empty house. I'm too afraid to breathe properly, running down the stairs onto the ground floor of the Estate. I see a maid approaching and dash behind a column, successfully managing to hide before she can spot something's off. The moment she rounds the corner, I'm off again.


Tags: Isabella Starling Mafia Heirs Romance