I look up at Alessandro. His jaw is clenched. His hands — those hands that have never touched me with kindness — are shaking.
Tonight, I'm done counting.
"The Rosetti family made a move tonight," he says. "They killed three of my men. And they sent a message." La Esposa Rechazada del Cruel Mafioso - Adri Lu...
"You're in my room," I reply, surprising myself with the steadiness of my voice. I look up at Alessandro
He closes the distance between us. His hand comes up — not to strike, not to push away — but to cup my face. His palm is calloused. Warm. And for the first time in three years, Alessandro Ferraro looks at me like I'm not a receipt. Tonight, I'm done counting
He doesn't. He never has.
I stand in front of the floor-length mirror in my empty room, my reflection a ghost in a designer nightgown I didn't choose. My hair is longer now — dark waves down my back, the same obsidian black as the night he first rejected me. My eyes are hollow. Once, they were warm. Once, I thought love could soften a cruel man.