"I wasn't?—"
"You were." His voice softens. "I know you. I know how you get when you're trying to control a situation. You bark orders. You make demands. You forget that other people have feelings."
"Feelings are irrelevant."
"Feelings are everything." He leans forward. "Nora taught me that. Before her, I thought I could run this family like a business. Cold. Efficient. Emotionless." He shakes his head. "I was wrong. People need to feel valued. Respected. Heard."
"This isn't a love match, Pietro. It's a transaction."
"Every relationship is a transaction of some kind. The question is what you're willing to give." He stands. Moves to refill his coffee. "She volunteered for this, you know."
I know. Lorenzo told me.
"That tells you something about her character," Pietro continues. "She's not weak. She's not passive. She made a choice. A sacrifice." He turns back to me. "The least you can do is treat her with basic respect."
Before I can respond, footsteps sound in the hallway.
Light. Hesitant. Nothing like the confident stride of my brothers.
I know who it is before she appears.
Antonella stops in the doorway. Her eyes sweep the room. Land on Pietro. Then on me.
She's wearing jeans. Simple dark denim that hugs her hips. A white blouse tucked in at the waist. Nothing fancy. Nothing designed to impress.
She looks better than she did in that wedding dress.
"Giulia said I should come down for breakfast." Her voice is steady. "But I can eat in my room if that's easier."
Pietro stands immediately. Crosses toward her with that easy charm he's perfected over years of negotiations.
"Nonsense." He gestures to the table. "You'll eat with us. Please, sit."
She hesitates. Her gaze flicks to me.
I should say something. Welcome her. Acknowledge her presence. Do something other than stare at her like an idiot.
My mouth won't cooperate.
Pietro coughs. Loud. Pointed.
"Good morning," I manage.
The words come out rough. Strained. Like I've forgotten how to speak.
"Good morning." She moves to the table. Chooses a seat across from Pietro. Three chairs away from me.
Smart. Keep your distance from the beast.
Pietro pours her coffee without asking. Sets it in front of her with a warm smile.
"How did you sleep?" he asks.
"Fine. Thank you."
She's lying. I can see it in the shadows under her eyes. The slight pallor of her skin.
But her face.