Chapter 5

I curled up under the covers. My tears had long soaked through the pillow.

Sometime in the small hours, I drifted off when a cold body pressed against me from behind and pulled me close.

"You left your phone in the booth. Why didn't you borrow someone else's to call me? Do you have any idea how worried I was that something happened to you?"

I was wide awake in an instant. I wrenched myself out of his arms.

"I was too tired. I forgot."

Giuliano's arms locked around my waist like iron clamps.

"I spent the whole night worrying about you, and here you are, sleeping like a baby. Didn't you say you had a present for me? Where is it?"

The image of the deep blue velvet box I had so carefully wrapped, still tucked inside my drawer, brought a fresh sting to my eyes.

"I lost it."

Giuliano did not press the matter. He simply bit down on my earlobe with a punishing edge, his scorching breath fanning against my neck.

"It's fine. You're the best gift I could ask for. Just stay by my side and that's enough."

When I felt the shift in his body, I sank my teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. Giuliano let out a muffled grunt of pain and loosened his grip.

I seized the chance and retreated to the far side of the bed. My voice was low and hoarse. "I do not feel well tonight."

As long as I was still under this roof, I had no intention of blowing things up between us.

Giuliano stared at me in the dark for a long time. In the end, he let out a frustrated sigh, reached over, and hauled me back into his arms.

"Fine. I won't touch you tonight. Go to sleep."

Perhaps the night's socializing had worn him out. His breathing evened out within minutes.

His iPhone lit up on the nightstand, buzzing relentlessly. Something possessed me to reach for it, and while he slept, I pressed his fingertip to the screen to unlock it. His fingerprint opened the door to secrets he never thought I would see.

It was a group chat called "Inner Circle." Messages and photos flooded in.

Giuliano was in every single one, arm around a woman styled with the polished elegance of old money.

It was Viviana.

In one photo, Giuliano held Viviana by the waist as the two of them shared a deep kiss beneath a cascade of fireworks in Solaire.

The messages kept coming.

"Boss really went all out for the Moretti Principessa. It's his own birthday and he flew out just to surprise her with fireworks."

"She's the future Madre of the Falcone family. Of course he's going to spoil her. That ballet‑dancing stepsister doesn't get this treatment. She's only good for keeping the bed warm, lmao."

"Good thing that Aria girl left early tonight. Imagine if she'd walked into the future Mrs. Falcone. Now that would've been ugly."

"Who cares? The wedding of the century is on the 21st next month anyway. Even if she found out today, that's just part of the Boss's revenge plan."

So "worrying about me all night" meant watching fireworks with his fiancée.

My heart felt as though it had been ripped open while still beating, raw and bleeding.

I wiped my tears dry and carefully slipped past Giuliano's sleeping form to retrieve my own phone. There was one missed call on the screen. It was from Giuliano.

I deleted the call log with a bitter smile.

I opened my inbox and pulled up the email I had drafted long ago but never had the nerve to send.

I took a deep breath and typed the final line.

"Dear Sir/Madam, I am writing to accept the Bellavista Royal Ballet's invitation for the position of principal dancer. I will depart on…"

My eyes drifted to the glaring photo of that kiss still glowing on Giuliano's phone.

"I will depart on March 21st, bound for Bellavista."