I sat up slowly, allowing the silk sheets to pool around my waist, and did not pursue the matter further. Only a few days remained until the engagement ceremony—the night when the alliance between the Ashford and Corleone families would be sealed in the old way, with witnesses and wine and words that could not be unspoken.
"You haven't seemed quite yourself lately," Giorgio observed, his dark eyes studying me with something that might have passed for concern in a man capable of such feeling. "Are you nervous about the ceremony?"
I followed his gaze, meeting his eyes directly, and offered a smile so gentle it left no room for doubt. "Perhaps."
The answer clearly pleased him. He crossed the room in three strides and reached out, pulling me to my feet with a movement that was intimate and utterly unquestioning—the gesture of a man who believed he already owned what he touched.
Over the years, every important occasion had followed nearly the same script. Sit-downs with allied families, tribute ceremonies, the symbolic rituals that bound the syndicate together with threads of loyalty and fear. And through it all, Silvia had always stood in the most appropriate place—never too prominent, never too invisible. She knew precisely when to appear vulnerable, when to speak, when to let her silence do the work for her.
More importantly, she was skilled at redirecting problems onto me.
Accounting discrepancies in the family's legitimate fronts. Shortages in the warehouse operations. Border conflicts with rival territories. As long as she casually mentioned to Father—"I'm worried Elena might be involved"—the outcome was already sealed. No one needed evidence. No one demanded proof. The process was merely formality, a thin veneer of justice over predetermined judgment.
But this time, I was no longer the one who accepted it passively.
I looked at Giorgio—truly looked at him, cataloging every detail of his confident posture, his self-satisfied expression. He was still immersed in the arrangement he believed was nearing completion, still convinced that all the pieces were falling into place according to his design.
Completely unguarded.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked, a hint of amusement coloring his voice.
"It's nothing," I said softly, letting warmth bleed into my tone. "I just suddenly feel that with you here, things don't seem so difficult."