Chapter 3

The wardrobe door had a keypad lock, with a small notice taped beside it.

[Password changes daily. Ask Marta for details.]

The smile on Matteo's face faded, bit by bit.

"What's this about?"

I looked at the notice, my voice flat.

"Marta said it's for easier management. So my dresses and jewelry don't go missing."

"Every time I need something, I have to apply to her first and get the password to open it."

Matteo's brows knitted together.

For that one moment, a faint hope stirred in me.

Like a tiny firefly in a pitch-black forest.

Maybe seeing it with his own eyes would make him understand what my life had been like these past three years.

Before I married him, I ran my own fine art restoration studio in California.

I'd already made a name for myself. Collectors came looking for me.

Matteo pursued me for three whole years.

To get my attention, he kept bringing me famous paintings to restore.

Then he used those paintings to hold a private exhibition. In my name.

To thank him, I offered to restore a painting for free. He refused.

He said all he wanted was one dance with me.

And if possible, a kiss on top of that.

His eyes couldn't hide a thing.

The moment my name came up, tenderness spilled over.

In the end, I sank into his gaze.

I left California and followed him back to New York.

But who could have guessed.

In this city where the Statue of Liberty stands, I would lose my freedom.

Matteo stared at the keypad lock and said nothing for a long while.

That flicker of hope trembled softly in his eyes.

Then he looked away.

"Marta is a little strict."

I raised my eyes, waiting for him to go on.

He sighed, a note of helplessness in his voice.

"But she means well."

That faint little thing finally went out.

"You only understand art. You don't understand family rules."

"One wrong step, and it's the Vitale name that gets dragged through the mud."

Matteo tapped the keypad lock and even let out a light laugh.

"She's overcautious, but she's only worried you'll make a mistake."

I pressed my lips together.

"I used to run a studio. Now I can't even manage a wardrobe."

"That's not what I meant."

Impatience flickered across his face, but his tone stayed carefully level.

"Isn't it nice having Marta worry for you?"

"Whatever you need, just say the word. She'll take care of it."

"All you have to do is focus on taking care of Sandro."

I smiled.

So this is what it feels like. People really do smile when they're furious.

The way he put it, it was like after I gave birth to Sandro, what I'd discarded wasn't the placenta. It was my brain.

And what right did I have to give Marta orders? Only he did.

For a family banquet, I had to submit a dress request a week in advance, and Marta always dragged it out until the last night before she'd stamp it.

At auctions, if I saw something I liked, Marta always said I hadn't submitted a funding request.

When I complained to Matteo, he'd go buy the thing for me.

But when he handed it over, he couldn't help lecturing me.

"Marta doesn't have it easy either. Stop giving her a hard time."

I even had to report my prenatal checkups to her in advance, or I wasn't allowed out the door.

And Matteo always, always stood on Marta's side.

They always said the same thing.

"Rules are rules."

Seeing me silent, Matteo thought I was convinced.

He took out a velvet box.

The lid opened to reveal an emerald necklace.

"Don't give me that cold face. I like seeing you smile."

He stepped behind me, picked up the necklace, and moved to put it on me.

"You've been so good lately. I had this made specially."

I stepped back half a pace.

His hand froze in midair, surprise flickering in his eyes.

"You don't like it?"

I shook my head. "I'm tired. Not today."

Matteo stared at me for a moment, then put the necklace away.

The way he looked, you'd think he was the one who'd been wronged.

"I'll have this lock taken off tonight. From now on, you decide what you wear."

He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Your main focus is Sandro right now, but if you want, I can let you handle some of the business."

"I'll also talk to Marta about showing you more respect."

I shrugged. "Okay."

Matteo put an arm around me. "Come up to the rooftop with me."

I glanced at the clock behind him.

Nine hours left before I was gone.

I shook my head. "I want to go back and stay with Sandro."

But Matteo just smiled at me mysteriously.

"The nanny's watching Sandro. Come on."

"I've got a surprise for you."