Chapter 2

I woke in the hospital with an IV in my hand and Mom sitting beside the bed. Her eyes were red as she took my fingers. “The doctor said your airway could’ve swollen shut if they’d waited much longer.”

My parents had been in Milwaukee dealing with a freight dispute. They’d driven back through the night after the hospital called. Dad had already demanded answers from the Vitales. Their version was that security had made a bad call, and the guard responsible had been removed.

“Did they tell you whose orders he was following?” I asked. Mom’s grip tightened. I told her everything, including how Marco hadn’t been completely unconscious when I rescued him. Dad stood in the doorway and listened without speaking.

The Vitales sent a report afterward. Marco admitted I’d been detained by mistake but blamed his security team and denied authorizing it. Dad refused to accept their explanation. For once, I didn’t ask him to let it go for Marco’s sake.

On the day I came home, Marco brought Bianca to our lakefront house. When I entered the sitting room, he was talking to Dad. “People saw Bianca leave with me that night. We should settle the wedding date before the gossip gets out of hand. The port agreement needs a firm commitment, too.”

A revised marriage contract lay on the table. Dad hadn’t touched the pen. “Bianca can decide whether she wants to marry you. What happened to my daughter is a separate matter.”

In my first life, that contract had carried my name. Marco had pressed so hard signing it, his pen had nearly torn the paper. Now he was pulling out Bianca’s chair.

“You’ve both been so good to me.” Her eyes shone as she looked from my parents to me. “But Elena’s loved him for years. If I marry him, won’t she feel I’ve stolen the life she should’ve had?”

I still had dressings on my right shoulder. Marco didn’t look at them as he stepped into my path. “Let’s get something straight. Whatever you were trying to pull that night, you’re not becoming a Vitale.”

Dad told him to watch his mouth. I raised a hand and set my hospital bill beside the contract. “Relax. All I want from you is payment for this. I saved your life. You locked me up. Seems fair.”

Bianca’s sniffles subsided. Marco looked as though he’d never seen me before. Dad picked up the bill, then asked if I objected to the marriage.

“No. As long as nobody lists me as the backup bride again.”

After a brief silence, Mom rubbed my back. “Does that mean I can introduce you to someone else?”

Her introductions usually came with a surname from Dad’s business contacts. This time, I didn’t mind. “Sure. We can start with dinner.”

Marco looked up sharply. I walked past him without stopping.

For the next two weeks, he was at our house almost every day. Bianca had lived with us since her parents died in a family feud. Dad was arranging a review of her assets before the wedding, which gave Marco an excuse to keep visiting. I used to ask every man in his entourage for help getting a single dinner with him. Now I couldn’t come downstairs for a file without catching him kissing my cousin.

Bianca especially enjoyed opening his gifts in front of me. “The perfumer made this just for me. I could put you in touch, if you like.”

“No, thanks.” I turned to leave.

The bottle shattered behind me. Bianca recoiled into Marco as he entered. “Elena, I know you didn’t mean to knock it out of my hand…”

“I didn’t touch it.”

Marco barely glanced at the broken glass. “Your parents leave again next week. I’ll stay in the guest wing until they’re back.”

I asked the housekeeper to call Dad. I wasn’t going to spend their trip defending myself to a man who’d already decided I was guilty.

Ten minutes later, Marco was arranging a hotel instead.

“Stay away from my room,” he warned before leaving.

I went upstairs to my own.

That day, I booked a tattoo appointment. The scrape on my shoulder ran along the initial of Marco’s name I’d had inked at nineteen. I’d once expected to carry it for the rest of my life. Once the skin healed, a falcon with outstretched wings would cover it.

Marco caught sight of the design on my phone as I passed him by the stairs. “Regretting putting my name on your skin?”