15. Pietro
Pietro
Tucked behind the velvet rope of royal security clearance in the west corridor, I check the silent feeds for anomalies. There’s too much activity near the cellars, and something about it feels wrong. A hint of treachery about to happen.
I speak into the comm. “Double security on Principe and Principessa. Now.”
The comm crackles. “Yes, sir.”
But it all fades when I see her.
Valaria.
Red silk slicing through the shadows. Anger in her eyes like a storm’s about to break. She’s out for blood.
Mine.
“You found me,” I say.
She doesn’t answer right away. Just stops a few feet short. Her chest rises and falls faster than the climb up the ballroom stairs should allow.
I know that look.
Something’s wrong.
“I heard them,” she says quietly. “Two men. Behind the hedge. They’re after Luca, probably Emma too.”
I straighten. “Security’s tight. Who’d you hear?”
“I didn’t see their faces. But I heard what they said.” Her voice cuts like glass now. “They said you’re soft. That you let your guard down because of me. I’m a mark. That you’re compromised.”
The words hang there. Heavy. Hot.
My pulse ticks up.
“Do you believe them?” I ask.
Her chin lifts. “I don’t want to.”
“But you do.”
She looks away.
And that’s worse than if she’d yelled. Worse than if she’d slapped me.
I take a step forward. “Valaria?—”
Her doubt is the wedge they wanted.
She thinks I used her.
And the worst part is?—
I don’t know if I deserve to say otherwise.
She cuts me off. “Tell me the truth. Was any of this real?”
I blink.
“The kiss in the garden? The fire? The night in your bed?” Her voice cracks—just barely. “Or am I your mark? Was it all for leverage?”
“Leverage? For what? Don’t do this,” I growl. “Don’t stand there like I planned this.”
“Did you?”
I close the gap between us, fast and furious.
“Look at me,” I say, low and dangerous. “I’ve burned half my reputation to keep you safe. Lied to my own team. Put myself between you and bullets. I would die for you.”
“But would you lie to me?”
Silence.
I don’t answer.
Because the truth is?—
I already have.
Not about my feelings. Never that. But there are things I haven’t told her. Secrets from earlier in the operation. Surveillance orders. Tapes I was meant to review. Files with her name in the margins, red-flagged by Intelligence.
Things I locked away. Things I was afraid would make her walk.
She sees it on my face.
Her breath shudders out.
“I thought I was falling for you,” she whispers.
“You were,” I say. “You are.”
“No,” she says, stepping back. “No more.”
And this time, she doesn’t stop walking.
Not even when I call her name.
Not even when my chest cracks open like a detonated vault.
Her silence is louder than the gunfire I’ve dodged.
It’s heartbreak.
And for the first time, I don’t know if I can fix it.
She disappears through the double doors of the ballroom.
And for the first time in a decade, I feel like I’ve lost something I won’t get back.