Chapter 34
Bianca Ferrucci
“Keep an eye on him,” Tiziano said as soon as he returned to my side.
“Did something happen?” I dared to ask, though I knew he wouldn’t give me a direct answer. From the beginning, Tiziano had made it clear that he didn’t share everything with me.
He looked away toward the ballroom, his shoulders stiff beneath the thin fabric of his suit jacket.
“There are things you’re better off not noticing, not knowing, Bianca.”
I wanted to press him, but the slight tremor in his jaw made me fall silent.
My eyes searched for the man who had just confronted Tiziano. He was on the other side of the room, a glass of wine between his fingers, staring at me with an odd smile. There was no desire, or anything like it, in his gaze. It wasn’t the kind of look that caused immediate discomfort.
It was something else, something subtler. It felt as though he were studying me, analyzing every detail about me. His smile wasn’t mocking or malicious.
I held his gaze for a few seconds until he slightly raised his glass in a silent greeting before looking away.
When I turned back to Tiziano, he was already scanning the ballroom with his usual coldness.
Suddenly, an elegant young woman bumped into me, spilling her glass of wine directly onto my dress. The red liquid spread across the light fabric, and her eyes widened, clearly embarrassed.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she said hurriedly, grabbing a napkin to try to clean it. “I’m so clumsy.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry,” I replied with a tense smile, trying to downplay the incident as she frantically attempted to dry my dress.
Tiziano, who had been nearby, immediately turned around, his expression hardening. He took a step toward us, but I stopped him before he could say anything.
“I’m going to the restroom to clean this up. It’s nothing.”
He frowned, taking off his jacket and placing it over my shoulders before accompanying me. However, before he could take another step, an acquaintance interrupted him, pulling him into an urgent conversation. He made a subtle gesture toward one of the soldiers.
“Go with her,” he ordered, without taking his eyes off the man who had approached him.
The soldier followed me as I walked toward the restroom. As soon as I entered, I heard the door lock. I turned quickly, and my heart raced when I saw a man blocking the exit. The same man who had been watching me all night.
I tried to scream, but he was faster, forcefully covering my mouth while pressing a knife against my throat.
“I’m going to let go of your mouth, but don’t scream,” he murmured in a low voice.
I nodded, feeling the cold metal against my skin. He slowly removed his hand but kept the knife in place, watching me with a calm smile.
“He was right when he said you were beautiful.”
“Who?” I managed to murmur.
“Oh, Bianca, they hid you so well. It took some work to find you. But the surprise of discovering that you’re now living in the Don’s house? It was delightful.” He let out a quiet laugh, as if he were enjoying the irony of the situation. “You’ll be very useful.”
“Useful for what?” I asked, curious.
“Just stay alert. Go on with your life, but know that I’ll come back to talk to you. Don’t try anything, or it’ll be much worse. Now leave this restroom as if nothing happened.”
He took a step back, allowing me to move, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. With trembling hands, I adjusted my stained dress and walked to the door. When I stepped out, the soldier Tiziano had assigned to me was nearby, waiting for me.
“Everything all right, ma’am?” he asked, his brow furrowing when he noticed my pale expression.
“Yes, everything’s fine,” I replied quickly, forcing a smile while my heart still pounded in my chest.
Tiziano approached me calmly, but the moment he got closer, his jaw tightened, and I saw the anger in his eyes.
His gaze swept over my face and my entire body, as if he were looking for something out of place.
He tilted his head slightly, and that crooked smile—his smile, the one that appeared when he felt challenged—curved his lips.
Without saying a word, he gently pushed me aside and entered the restroom, his gun already in hand.
I followed him, my heart hammering against my chest, my breathing quickening.
When he turned around, I saw fire burning in his eyes, but he said nothing.
He didn’t need to. His silence was worse than any scream.
He inspected every corner of the restroom suspiciously. A window near the ceiling was wide open. Tiziano ran his tongue over his lips, assessing the situation. I could smell his anger in the air, mingled with the soft fragrance of the flowers decorating the place.
“Is there a problem, sir?” asked the soldier who had been waiting for me at the door just minutes earlier.
Tiziano took a deep breath as he put his gun away.
“Take my wife to the car. I’ll be there shortly.”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier nodded, turning to me with a subtle gesture. “This way, ma’am.”
I hesitated for a moment, still feeling Tiziano’s gaze burning into me, but I nodded and followed the soldier.
Minutes later, the driver’s phone rang. He answered quickly, exchanging a few words in a low voice before hanging up. Without wasting any time, he started the car.
“My husband isn’t coming?” I asked, though I knew most of them rarely answered me. This time was no different; he remained completely silent, his eyes fixed on the road.
The car stopped in front of the mansion, and the driver turned off the engine. I waited for a few seconds. I didn’t expect him to come open the door for me, so I got out on my own, slamming it harder than necessary.