Chapter 4

One day before the engagement.

I returned from the hospital with my shoulder braced. Damian was waiting in the study. Serena was upstairs.

Two documents lay beside a fountain pen.

He pulled out a chair. "Sit down."

The first waived my civil claim against Serena.

The second blamed my driver for the crash. If I signed it, Serena's racing license would be safe.

"I'm not signing a lie."

I pushed the false statement back.

His brows had only begun to draw together when I picked up the pen and signed the settlement.

He studied my name on the last page. "You're agreeing to settle?"

"I'm waiving my personal compensation claim. I'm not accepting responsibility for her. The evidence can determine what the police do next."

Damian slid a model of a new studio toward me.

"I'll rebuild everything. The Moretti Foundation will give you its next arts project."

"You haven't lost anything I can't replace."

That was Damian's answer to every wound: name a price and call it healed.

"Thank you," I said.

His expression softened completely. He moved behind me, careful of my injured shoulder, and kissed my hair.

"After tomorrow, I'll cut back on seeing Serena alone. You've always wanted Lake Como. Once the family meetings are over, we'll spend a month there."

A week ago, that promise would've been enough.

"All right."

Damian smiled. "You've changed lately. You used to need to win every argument and divide everything into right and wrong. Marriage isn't a courtroom, Evie. Family doesn't keep score."

I looked down at my signature. "You're right."

That answer pleased him even more.

"Your dress arrives at eight tomorrow morning. Hair and makeup at nine. The car leaves for the Long Island estate at eleven. Serena will stand beside you. Don't mention the accident in front of the guests."

"Whatever you say."

"Keep this up after we're married, and we'll have a much easier life."

I didn't tell him my flight to Milan left at seven in the morning.

By the time the engagement ceremony began, I would already be outside New York airspace.

A family call pulled Damian into the hallway. Once the door closed, Serena came out of the primary suite. Her arm was wrapped in white bandages, but there was nothing weak about the smile on her face.

"You finally learned how to play this," she said, lowering her voice. "You can have the ring, the house, even the Moretti name. The second I'm hurt, he'll still pick me up first."

She stepped closer. "Yesterday, he saw you before he saw me. You were bleeding too. But I was the one he rode with in the ambulance."

She waited for me to strike back.

The old Evelyn would've exposed every lie and insisted Damian loved me.

I removed the engagement ring from my left hand and placed it in her uninjured palm.

"Then take it."

Her smile froze. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The seat you want. The name. The right to always be chosen first." I met her eyes. "You can have all of it."

For the first time, uncertainty flashed across her face. Her fingers closed around the ring.

"Stop pretending you don't care. At eleven tomorrow, you'll walk into that estate in your gown. No one wants to be Damian Moretti's wife more than you do."

I didn't waste time answering. I pulled my silver-gray suitcase from the closet.

My passport was in my bag. Everything that mattered was already on its way to Milan.

Damian returned as I put on my coat. "Where are you going this late?"

"The studio. There are a few files left to handle."

"Your shoulder is injured. Don't drive. I'll have Luca take you."

"I'll be on time."

His attention shifted to my bare hand. "Where's your ring?"

Serena held it out immediately. "Her fingers are swollen. I told her to take it off for tonight."

Damian didn't question her. He slipped the ring into the inside pocket of his suit, then adjusted my coat collar with both hands.

"No more scenes tomorrow. When you're standing beside me, I'll put it back on myself."

I studied him for a long moment.

It was the last time I would see him this close: gray-green eyes, the old scar through his left brow, the faint scent of cedar at his collar. Once, I had believed those details would belong to every day of my life.

"See you tomorrow," I said.

Damian kissed my forehead. "Tomorrow, fiancee."

I walked out of the Moretti townhouse.

He didn't follow me.

He thought I had finally accepted Serena's place in our marriage.

At eleven the next morning, Damian stood beneath the Moretti crest with my ring in his hand, watching the ballroom doors.

I never walked through them. I was already in Milan, signing my new contract and beginning a life that no longer included him.