other antipasti, foods I could eat with my fingers.
Despite my situation, I wasn’t immune to the scent of food. I would need sustenance if I was going to go another round with the Moretti men.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” she said.
I nodded absently, feeling a fresh coat of tears breach my eyes. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you back there.”
“I understand why you did. I’m a Moretti.”
“Apparently, so am I,” I joked.
She didn’t laugh. Gisella nibbled on her plump bottom lip. She was pretty, but her beauty was subtle and unripe. She had the flush and slender features of youth, but in a few years, she would be a beautiful woman.
“How old are you?” I asked suddenly.
“Sixteen.”
“Sixteen,” I murmured with a shake of my head.
“Be careful, Sterling,” she said. “Don’t anger him.”
“Angelo? It’s a little late for—”
“Not my father. Raphael Foscari. You don’t know what he’s capable of…”
“What? What do you know about him?” I asked.
She was just about to reply when Luca called, “Gisella? Papà wants you to return to the table.”
Gisella stood up and brushed the wrinkles from the skirt of her dress. With one final look at me, she left, passing Luca as she went.
Her brother reached out to touch her arm, holding her for just a moment as he leaned down to whisper something in her ear.
She smiled up at him with such a look of trust I wanted to scoop her up into my arms and protect her. She was a fawn in a glen of wolves.
I didn’t even hear her footsteps as she strode away.
Luca stood near me with his hands in his trouser pockets.
“I’d like to be alone,” I said, turning my back to him and focusing on the fountain.
The artist had taken great creative liberty with this version, because there was no fear or revulsion on Proserpina’s face. In fact, the look she gave Pluto was nothing short of carnal.
Luca didn’t bow to my demand. Instead, he took a seat next to me on the bench. “What did Gisella say to you?”
“She brought me food and said she was sorry about my mother.” I picked up a seasoned olive and placed it in my mouth.
“Is that all?”
I chewed and removed the olive pit before answering. “Yes, that’s all.” I looked at him and frowned. What was he driving at? Did he suspect that Gisella had warned me about Raphael?
She hadn’t needed to warn me. My mother had told me what the Foscari were capable of—murdering my father in cold blood, hunting her tirelessly for years.
How had she found the strength to go on? All she had was Sister Agatha, and then it was just her, alone in the world. A mother with nothing more than the determination to protect her child.
I had Hadrian. I just had to wait. I could withstand anything, knowing he would come for me.
“Your fiancé will arrive tomorrow,” Luca announced.
I stood up from the bench and flung my half-eaten plate of food into the fountain.
Chapter Thirty
After my reprieve in the gardens, I went back to my bedroom, refusing to spend any more time in my family’s presence. A servant brought me dinner on a tray, but I didn’t touch it.
I went to bed, hugging a pillow to me and crying. Deep, bone wrenching sobs. I had only been on my own for one day and already I felt myself breaking.
I needed Hadrian. I needed his arms around me, his strength, his power. I needed him to sweep me away from this horrible nightmare that had become my reality.
Sometime around dawn, I finally fell into a fitful sleep, only to be awakened a few minutes later by a female servant bringing me a breakfast tray. Even though I felt nauseous, I managed to choke down a homemade chocolate-filled sfogliatella.
I decided to sit and have tea on the balcony and try to collect my thoughts when Luca entered my bedroom without bothering to knock.
I glared at him. “There’s this thing called privacy. You can’t just barge in here like that.”
“You’re not afforded privacy anymore,” he stated.
“I hate you,” I seethed, ready to chuck the delicate china teacup at him.
“You’ve made that clear.” He straightened his tie. “Raphael Foscari will be here within the hour. I suggest you make yourself presentable.”
“Or what? He’ll send me back to the factory and ask for a new Moretti brood mare?”
His jaw tightened. “He’s graciously decided to marry you despite the fact that you’re not a virgin.”
“How wonderful for me.” I took