Page 40 of Shattered Engagement

I raise myself to look into his eyes. “And then what?”

It’s the question that’s been haunting me, the uncertainty that lingers beneath our carefully constructed plans. After Giancarlo falls, after Luca learns the truth, after the Calviño empire crumbles—what happens to us?

Stefano brushes a strand of hair from my face, his expression softening into something I’ve never seen before. Vulnerability. Hope.

“And then we figure it out together,” he says simply. “If that’s what you want.”

The offer—tentative, uncertain—means more coming from this man who’s spent decades focused solely on revenge than any flowery declaration ever could. Stefano Calviño doesn’t make promises lightly. I’ve come to know that he always means what he says and looks for ways to accomplish the impossible.

“It’s what I want,” I admit, the words terrifying in their honesty. “I want a chance to discover who we could be without all of this hanging over us.”

He kisses me then, gentle and thorough, as if sealing a pact between us. When we part, the clock on the nightstand warns me that our stolen time is nearly over.

With reluctance, I disentangle myself from his arms and retrieve my nightdress from the floor. He watches me dress, eyes tracking my movements with an intensity that makes me want to crawl back into his bed.

“The bruises,” he says suddenly, gesturing to my arm where Luca’s fingerprints have darkened. “If he touches you again—”

“He won’t,” I assure him, though we both know it’s a lie. “I’ll keep my distance until the wedding.”

Stefano rises from the bed in all his naked glory, a sight that momentarily steals my breath. He moves to a small case on the dresser, retrieving a jar of cream.

“For the bruises,” he explains, pressing it into my hand. “It will help them fade faster.”

The simple act of care brings unexpected tears to my eyes. How strange, that in this world of material excess, the gift that moves me most is a small jar of bruise cream from a man who understands pain.

“Thank you,” I manage, pocketing the cream.

He helps me smooth my hair, straighten my nightdress, erase the visible evidence of our encounter. His hands linger on my shoulders, as if reluctant to let me go.

“Be careful,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Remember who’s watching.”

I nod, understanding his warning. In the De Angelis house, in the world we inhabit, eyes are everywhere. Any misstep could be catastrophic.

At the door, I pause for one final look at him—this complex man who entered my life as a stranger in a club, became my appointed guardian, and has somehow become something far more dangerous: a possibility. A future I never dared imagine.

“All these will soon be over,” I remind him, a promise and a prayer.

His smile—rare, genuine, transforming his face from dangerous to devastating—is the last thing I see before slipping back into the hallway.

The corridors feel colder as I make my way back to my room, each step taking me further from Stefano and closer to the life I was born into—the life I’m now conspiring to upend completely.

If my father knew what I’ve done tonight, what I’m planning to do in five days’ time, he would consider it the ultimate betrayal. The De Angelis princess colluding with a Calviño ghost to destroy a crucial alliance. Unforgivable in our world.

Yet, as I slide beneath the cold sheets of my empty bed, I find I don’t regret a single choice that led me here. Not the night at the club. Not the secrets uncovered. Not the promises made in darkness.

For the first time in my life, I’m not just a pawn in someone else’s game. I’m making my own moves, writing my own story.

And in five days, everything changes.

The question that follows me into dreams is not whether we’ll succeed in bringing down Giancarlo Calviño. It’s whether Stefano and I will survive what comes after.

Because in our world, happy endings aren’t part of the bargain. They have to be fought for, bled for, and sometimes killed for.

And I’m finally ready to fight for mine.

14

Alessio

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