“That’s not what I asked.”
Footsteps sound on the stairs, and both of us turn.
Caligula appears in the doorway wearing my robe. His hair is messy. His eyes are heavy-lidded. He blinks like he’s just been dragged from a dream. “What’s going on?” he asks at last.
His voice is faint. Cracked.
Fontana studies him. “You missed your check-in.”
I brace myself. He’s going to spill it all. He’s going to say I threatened to kill him, locked him in the basement, left him in the dark for three days…
Caligula glances at me, then lifts one hand to cover a yawn. “Oh,” he says. “Is that all?” He steps farther into the room, bare feet silent on the thick carpet. “I’m sorry. We’ve been busy.”
His eyes slide toward me. Not subtle this time. Not meant to be.
Fontana looks between us, and Caligula gives a tiny smirk, just enough to make the implication filthy.
“Too busy to answer a text?” Fontana asks.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten those first few days of a new connection,” Caligula tells him. “But, yes. Far too busy.”
Rosa is in the doorway, still as a statue. Her eyes go from Caligula to me, then back again. She knows he’s lying. Fontana must know it, too.
But Caligula sells it like he always does.
He comes to stand near the fire, almost close enough to touch me. He keeps his posture loose, sleepy, spoiled. He plays the prince pulled from his lover’s bed and irritated by the interruption.
It’s perfect.
And at first, all I can do is marvel at the performance. The nerve of him. But the closer I look, the more I see how much this is costing him. His shoulders are sitting too high. His mouth is curved but tight. And his eyes?—
His eyes aren’t that bright, golden honey color they usually are. They’re dark and shadowed.
Fontana folds his arms. “You had an agreement with Finch.”
“I’m aware.” Caligula tilts his head. “And while I appreciate the concern, I do think we should discuss boundaries.”
“Boundaries,” Fontana repeats.
“I agreed to keep in touch with Finch. I did not agree to be monitored like a child. Banging on Dami’s door in the middle of the night because I failed to send a bedtime update is not acceptable.”
Dami. He says it easily. Softly. And he has to know it cuts me every time.
“Tell Finch I’ll text him if and when I feel like it,” he finishes.
Fontana watches him for several long seconds. “You sure you’re okay?”
Caligula’s smile is the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It’shissmile, the dazzling one that charms old society ladies and French waiters alike. But it doesn’t reach his eyes. Not even close. “I’m wonderful.”
“You look tired.”
“I refer you to my earlier point about being busy.”
Fontana’s gaze drops briefly to the robe, to Caligula’s throat, to the bare feet. Then he looks at me. There’s an unspoken warning there. “Alright,” he says at last.
I walk him to the foyer. Rosa steps aside to let us pass, saying nothing. At the door, Fontana pauses, waits till I’m looking at him. “Don’t make me need to come back here.”
He walks out into the cold, and I shut the door behind him. The security shutter slams down. When I turn, Rosa and Vito are gone, so I head back to the great room. Caligula is standing exactly where I left him by the fire.