Catania, an ancient estate beside the Cathedral of Saint Agatha, was ablaze with lights.James entered the ballroom alone, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit.He refused all his attendants, emanating a presence that warned others to keep their distance.The moment he appeared, the lively crowd quieted slightly. Curious, sympathetic, or gloating eyes glanced his way.Choosing between the two at the docks, abandoning his woman.The story was deliberately spread by Shawn and had long become a joke known throughout Sicily.Not to mention, he had spiraled into madness for three months over someone presumed dead.James ignored all those gazes. His eyes were sharp like a hawk’s, scanning the crowd for Shawn.Then his gaze froze at the terrace entrance.A woman in a dark green velvet gown, back turned to him, was whispering to Shawn.She wore a delicate half‑Venetian mask, revealing only her smooth chin and full red lips.Yet that silhouette…His heart clenched as though an i
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