Page 40 of Of Lies and Shadows

I nod because I know it, too, but the alternative is far worse.

“I would rather be his nanny, his maid, and his whore,” I say, my voice low but clear, “than have him force a child on me if he ever feels like it. I won’t bring a life into this world just to sentence it to the same cage I live in.”

He flinches at the wordwhore, visibly pained, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods, defeat lining every inch of him.

And just like that, the last shred of illusion is gone. This is survival. Bare, brutal survival.

“I’ll assign you a guard,” he says finally.

“And before you argue”—he lifts a hand—“it’s within my rights. I’ve done it before. When there’s a blood debt between famiglia and a forced marriage, sometimes it’s necessary. It’s precedent.”

I stare at him, too hollow to even muster anger. “Who would even want to protect me?” I whisper. “I’m nothing. Less than nothing.”

He meets my eyes squarely. “Bruno Bianchi.”

I laugh. A cracked, broken sound that escapes before I can stop it. “This is ridiculous. He’s my father’s main guard. His right hand. My father would never let him go. And Bruno…” My voice fractures. “Bruno would never… He wouldn’t throw his life away like that.”

Judge Rizzo’s mouth tightens. His next words are quiet. “He asked me.”

The world tilts sideways for a moment.Bruno asked.

Not because of duty. Not because of orders. Because ofme.

For the first time all day, something close to warmth presses against the icy grief strangling my heart.

“My father would never agree.”

It’s Rizzo’s turn to smile—cold and ruthless. “Too bad he doesn’t have a say.” His gaze softens just slightly. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Absolutely not.“Yes,” I lie.

He presses a button on his desk, and the heavy door opens. All the men file back in, their faces pulled tight with irritation and impatience.

“What took you so long?” my father mutters under his breath.

But Judge Rizzo is already back in character, the iron-fisted judge the famiglia fear.

“What did you say, Mr. Mori? It's not too late to punish the Vescari family for clearly organizing this betrayal.”

Don Salvatore shoots my father a look sharp enough to cut steel, and my father, coward that he is, drops his gaze immediately.

“Very well,” Rizzo says. “I spoke with the accused and agreed to add the additional wording to the marriage contract.”

“Is it truly necessary?” It's Dante’s voice that cuts through the room—cold, measured. And somehow, it still startles me.

“Why? Did you not say those words to her?” Rizzo asks, his voice even.

“I did,” Dante answers without hesitation.

“Do you intend to treat her as such?”

I can't help it. I glance at Dante, desperate, searching for something, anything that might save me. For one heartbeat, I swear I see uncertainty flicker across his face. But when he meets my eyes again, the hate is back, carved deep and unforgiving.

“Undoubtedly,” he says.

The finality in his tone punches the air from my lungs.

“Very well,” Rizzo says crisply. “The wording will be added.” He glances down at the heavy contract spread across the desk. “And I will also assign a Vescari guard to Miss Mori for her protection. Any objections?”

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