Chapter 2

My heart leaped into my throat. I dug my nails into my leather clutch to keep my expression calm.

I took half a step back, putting distance between us. My voice was polite and detached. "A wedding surprise for you and Ava. I asked Madre to help me keep it secret."

The surprise was my permanent disappearance from his life. Lorenzo's brow tightened, catching the defensiveness in my posture.

After a long silence, he loosened his tie in frustration.

"It's for the best that you've figured it out. I'm ten years older than you and, in name, your uncle. Enough of this childish talk about marrying me. You're still young. Go meet some men your own age."

The air in front of me warped again as the comments reappeared.

[Isabella, yell at him! This old man is going crazy because you're avoiding him. He's just saying the opposite of what he means! He's been convinced since the day you kissed him on your 18th birthday.]

[The ten-year age gap, the titles, he doesn't care about any of it. He's just afraid the old guard in the family will move against you, so he's holding back and won't touch you!]

[He just ditched his fiancée and was frantically searching for you! He wanted to tell you he sent the broken pendant to a master jeweler in Switzerland to have it repaired!]

I lowered my lashes and agreed crisply. "Don't worry, Uncle. I won't pester you again."

With that, I started toward the main building's bedrooms. If I was flying to Sicily next month, it was time to pack.

My ready agreement seemed to hit Lorenzo like a punch to the gut. He watched my retreating back for a long time before silently following.

As we passed through the grand hall, Lorenzo called out to me again.

"Today is the Feast of Saint Anthony."

He held out his hand. Lying between his long, clean fingers was a small cross pendant, its platinum chain polished to a shine.

My eyelashes fluttered.

[Ahhh! You once made an offhand wish to get a cross blessed by a cardinal from the man you love on Saint Anthony's Day! I can't believe he actually remembered and flew to the Vatican for it!]

[I'm sobbing! The night you were in surgery, he knelt in the family chapel all night, reciting the entire Rosary, just so his little Principessa would live… I'm swooning!]

I looked at the cross. My name was engraved on the inside of the chain. I tugged at the corners of my mouth, but couldn't manage a smile.

"Thank you, Uncle. But you should save this kind of gift for Ava in the future. She's your Donna, after all."

Lorenzo froze, his Adam's apple bobbing. Just as he was about to speak, a burst of laughter erupted from the front hall.

"My God, she has no shame. How dare she show up in the main hall dressed like that?"

"She's the kind of shameless creature who would do anything for money. She can't hold a candle to our Principessa."

At the center of everyone's attention stood Ava, dressed in an extremely revealing lace slip, the fabric on her chest barely covering a thing.

She stood pale and trembling in the middle of the crowd, the picture of mortification.

It was the kind of dress a cheap streetwalker might wear, and its appearance at a formal Moretti banquet was a blatant insult to the family's traditions.

The moment she saw Lorenzo, she lunged into his arms as if grasping a lifeline, sobbing her heart out.

"A maid told me Isabella had this dress specially prepared, that you hoped I would wear it today… I didn't know it would look like this. It wasn't my fault..."

Lorenzo immediately took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. When he looked at me again, the last bit of warmth in his eyes had turned to ice.

"Isabella, you talk of being sensible, yet you pull these petty tricks behind my back. Is this how I raised you?"

It felt like a raw wound had been torn open in my chest.

I lifted my head, forcing back tears, and met his gaze, my voice calm. "I didn't give her that dress, nor did I instruct anyone to."

"You know me. If I'm not happy, I deal with it head-on. Why would I resort to such a cowardly trick?"

As I spoke, Lorenzo's expression softened slightly.

But Ava, still in his arms, sniffled and pulled something from her clutch, her tone innocent and aggrieved.

"Isabella, I'm sorry… Maybe I misheard. The maid gave me two things. Is this what you actually wanted me to see?"

Sobbing, she started to open the box. A stack of photos scattered onto the carpet.

They were a few obscene "private photos," along with a card bearing my signature that read: "Slut, if you want to seduce men, go sell yourself in a brothel. Don't get any ideas about Isabella's man."

Another burst of derisive laughter came from the guests, mixed with a few curses directed at me.

Ava let out a scream, her eyes rolled back, and she fainted.

A murderous aura instantly erupted from Lorenzo. He shot me a look so intense it was as if he wanted to swallow me whole.

"The handwriting is yours. Would she really frame you at the expense of her own reputation? Isabella, when did you become so venomous and vile? You are a ward of the Moretti family. Today, I will teach you the discipline your parents never could."

"Guards! Take Isabella to the cellar. No one lets her out without my command."

He scooped Ava into his arms and strode away. I took an instinctive step after him, trying to explain. "Uncle, I didn't…"

Lorenzo shoved me away, roaring, "Get lost!"

He didn't hold back his strength.

I slammed hard against a marble pillar. The still-healing gunshot wound on my waist tore open, and blood quickly soaked through my gown, blooming into a glaring patch of red.

A nearby bodyguard's face went white. He was about to call out to Lorenzo.

Shaking my head, I stopped him through the waves of pain.

I propped myself up against the pillar, slowly straightening. I looked at the man's retreating back and gave a bitter smile. "Take me to the cellar to receive my punishment."

For his decade of care, this repays my debt.

From this day forward, Lorenzo Moretti and I are even.