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“You’re my brother’s daughter. Of course not.”

“But it didn’t hurt that you got a better-than-new apartment and money and whatever else they gave you. And you made sure not to break any of their rules. Is that why I wasn’t allowed to date? Or to even hang out with friends?”

“The point is moot, isn’t it?” Lucas says.

I turn from my uncle to Lucas. “Fuck you. I’m done.” I tug to get free, but he tightens his grip.

“Cristina,” he says, voice so low it’s more a rumble.

“Let. Go.”

“Poor little rich girl. You finished feeling sorry for yourself?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“No, you’re not.”

Before I can even open my mouth to reply, he spins me around, locking my arms painfully behind my back. All it takes is a twist of his hand to have me crying out in pain as the knife falls to the Persian rug beneath my feet.

“Jesus Christ, you’re going to break her arm! Let her go!”

My uncle’s warning comes a beat too late as he’s still across the room. Why isn’t he hauling Lucas off me?

Lucas ignores him, leans his face so close to mine that I feel the scruff on his jaw against my cheek. “We’re finished when I say we’re finished. You summoned me. I came. Now, you do as you’re told, and you sit your ass down.” He releases me so abruptly that I stumble forward, almost falling.

“What the fuck is wrong with the Di Santo men thinking women should do as they’re told? Do you know what year it is?”

“Cute.”

Before I have a chance to scoop up the blade, he does. He closes it and tucks it into his pocket.

“You’ll get that back when we leave. If you’re good.”

“That’s mine!” I charge him.

He catches me easily, holding me at arm’s length. “No, actually, it’s Michela’s. She only lent it to you.”

“So I could protect myself against Damian, but maybe the one I need protecting from is you!”

He plants me on a chair and leans into me, hands tight around my wrists. “Do I need to tie you down?”

“Lucas,” my uncle says in a tone that used to warn me when I was a child. It has no impact on Lucas, though.

“Because I might like that,” he says, eyes falling to my lips as he licks his. “Maybe you will too.”

“That’s enough,” my uncle says.

“Damian’s going to kill you.”

“Is that after you explain making plans to meet me. Getting into a car with me. I know how he punished Michela. What do you think he’ll do to you?”

“He wouldn’t do that!”

“No?”

“No.”

He studies my face curiously, then exhales. “You know what? You’re right. I actually don’t think he would.”

I stay in my seat, his comment unsettling, not comforting. Although I’m sure his intention isn’t to make me feel comfortable.

“I was right,” he says.

“Right about what?”

“That you have become a weakness to my dear, heartless brother. A chink in his armor.” He resumes his seat. “Now let me clarify some things here, Cristina. First of all, I haven’t lied to you. I’ve answered you truthfully. I am not your enemy. I have no reason to be.”

“Did you know I was out in the woods that day?”

“Did I know you followed me? Yes.”

“And you left me out there?”

“What would you have had me do? Drag you back to the house and lock you in your room? That’s my brother’s game.”

“Except that this isn’t a game. It’s my life.”

He doesn’t comment.

“Did you set the fire?” I ask.

He snorts. “No, I did not.”

“Did you help the people who did?”

“See, you’re not asking the right questions.”

“What do you mean?”

“That fire doesn’t have anything to do with you. That has to do with Damian. He needs to learn not to cross certain people.”

“Is he in danger?”

“Would you care?”

Would I?

“Are you ready for me to tell you why your uncle is here? Although, honestly, I’m starting to question his worth.”

I swallow because I know this is going to be bad.

“I’ll be honest, when I found out my brother’s plan, well, it surprised even me, actually,” Lucas continues. “It’s cruel, really. But maybe his twisted brain makes it out to be merciful.” He shakes his head.

I just stare at him, my heart racing, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Do you know why Damian married you, Cristina?”

I’ve wondered about this. About his answer when I’ve asked it. It seemed too altruistic for him to have done it to protect me without having something to gain from it himself.

“I know you received the bullshit about family rules and protecting you and blah, blah, blah and how noble would that make him if only it were true.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is he protecting you now? From me?”

I glare at him.

“The Valentina Foundation, the Di Santo family has become heavily invested. He wouldn’t want to let that go.”

“I don’t follow.”

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