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Alex promised to see Aiden at home, and we left the bar. I helped Alex into the passenger seat of my Aston Martin Vanquish.

She slid into the plush leather, and her eyes lifted to meet mine. “I have a bad feeling about this. I’m not kidding, Luca. If anything happens to Aiden because of you or The Serpents, I will slit your throat.”

I smiled in appreciation for her mean streak. “That’s my girl.”

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “I’m not your girl.”

“Yes, you are.”

She was always mine, even when she was too stubborn to admit it to herself.

After the hot sex with Luca, I didn’t see anyone but Marcello. We ate meals together, sat on the patio overlooking the bay, and some nights he watched me paint. He even woke me from my bad dreams and rocked me back to sleep. I liked him, and that was dangerous for both of us. Because despite Luca’s absence, he was always watching.

On Wednesday morning, Marcello announced we were leaving the house. It was my first day at Wellington Architecture and Design. My grandfather had given my parents money to start their firm with one caveat. I had to assist them with major restorations.

Marcello pulled into the lot and parked next to my father’s BMW. I opened the door, and he clutched my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. “You’re having lunch at Blue Moon Cafe with Kali Marx. She’s picking you up at noon.”

I’d forgotten about our lunch plans. Now that I understood how their world worked, I wasn’t sure if I should trust her. Kali seemed kind enough, but why was she insistent on having lunch? Did Luca want her to spy on me? I wouldn’t have put it past him.

“You can use my mother’s studio tonight,” Marcello offered.

I lifted my messenger bag from the floor. “Have you changed your mind about letting me paint you?”

He pressed his lips together, his expression unreadable.

“Think about it, Marcello. It can be our little secret.”

His eyes drifted to my mouth, then dipped to my cleavage. Lately, I had noticed him staring more than normal. We were spending so much time together it was impossible not to catch feelings.

After I got out of the car and shut the door, he rolled down the window and leaned his elbow on top of the center console. “I’ll pick you up after work. Don’t make me chase you.”

I never thought I would earn his trust, but he was letting me have more privileges in our short time together. It seemed silly to think of my imprisonment that way. But at least with Marcello, I could be myself. He gave me free rein as long as I didn’t run. And being with him made me… happy.

I waved goodbye, then slung my bag over my shoulder, strolling through the front door. My mother sat behind a white reception desk and yelled into the phone. She ignored me and continued scribbling on a notepad as she barked orders. I walked past the reception area and down a long corridor. Two men were setting up plotters and printers we used for architecture plans.

Toward the end of the hall, I spotted my office. It looked like a replica of my old workspace back in Haven with two drafting tables, an enormous oak desk with lots of bins, and an easel set up with a blank canvas on the floor beside it.

I poked my head into my father’s office, waiting for him to glance up from his desk, but he was in the zone. “Hey, Dad,” I said as I stepped into the room.

He lifted his head, but his eyes didn’t meet mine. “Did you just get in?”

“Yeah. Mom was on the phone. So I gave myself the tour.”

He dropped his pencil onto the desk but did not bother to get up to greet me. No shocker there.

“Alex, your office is down the hall.”

“Yeah, I found it. I would have come over and helped… if I’d known you needed it. You should have told me.”

He waved his hand to dismiss me. “We have a dozen new clients, thanks to the Salvatores. It’s been a hectic week.”

I nodded. “What are you working on?”

“Second additions for a few families in town. Your mother is meeting with the Wanamakers to discuss a fresco restoration.”

“I can go with her.”

“No,” he said with authority. “You should stay here, hold down the fort. Answer any phone calls that come in.”

“Dad, I studied under Madeline Laveau. I can help with the restoration.”

“Let your mother handle it.” He shoved a hand through his dark hair and sighed. “We need you here.”

“I lost everything overnight, and now you won’t even let me do my job?”

“Alexandrea,” he groaned. “Please. We’re not even open yet. This transition hasn’t been easy for any of us.”

I tilted my head back and laughed, a wicked cackle that pierced the air like gunfire. “Did you know they drugged me? The Salvatores left me in my room for days. So don’t talk to me about what’s hard for you. I can guarantee what I’m going through is much worse.”

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