Page 26 of Bride By Coronation

"Ugh! Stop these stupid thoughts. It doesn't matter," I reprimand myself as I turn off the water. I grab a towel and add, "Awesome, now I'm talking to myself."

I dry off, grab my robe off the hook, and secure it around me. I continue to go through the motions of getting ready. Once dressed, I enter the kitchen, turn the coffeepot on, and remove the creamer from the fridge.

"Can I have one too?" I hear a woman with a somewhat-familiar Italian accent ask.

The hairs on my arms rise. I spin and freeze in place, my mouth going dry.

Valentina smiles but doesn't say anything more. She's wearing a red designer minidress, and she looks as amazing as yesterday.

I grab a knife and snarl, "What are you doing in my house?"

She holds her hands up. "Easy there. I'm not here to hurt you."

"You have two seconds to answer my question," I warn, stepping closer and pointing the knife at her.

Amusement fills her expression. "You're holding that wrong if you're going to stab me."

I glance at the weapon.

She adds, "You have to hold it up in the air like this." She demonstrates how to hold it, as if she has a knife in her hand, and continues, "The force coming down will dig the blade deeper into me."

I gape at her, unsure what to do.

"Fiona, put the knife down. And please, give me a cup of coffee. It's early," she orders, pulling out a barstool and sitting at the island.

I don't move, repeating, "What are you doing in my house?"

She points at the coffeepot. "Caffeine first. We both need to function, and from what I can tell, you didn't sleep too well last night."

My insides quiver. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

How does she know that?

I glance behind me.

"No one is here but you and me. Why don't you sit? I'll get the coffee." She gets up, takes two mugs out of my cabinet, as if she already knows where everything is, and pours a cup. She sets it on the counter and places the cream and sugar next to it. Then she opens a drawer, pulls out a spoon, and sets it down.

"How did you get in here?" I ask, knowing my stepfather Dante has decked out my building with the highest level of security.

"I'll explain everything, I promise. And you want to learn about your father's mark, right?" She arches her eyebrows.

My pulse skyrockets. "What do you know about my father?"

She points to the seat. "Sit." Then, she pours a mug for herself. She adds a spoonful of sugar and then leans against my back counter. "Sit so we can talk, Fiona."

Not knowing what else to do, I keep the knife by my side and take a seat.

"Fix your coffee and then we'll talk," she commands.

I obey and take a sip.

"There. Better?" she asks with amusement.

"Start talking," I demand.

Her amusement intensifies. "You're a lot like your brother."

"You know Sean?"

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