“A choice between a bullet and selling his daughter,” I spat.

“There are worse things than being married to a Vitale,” the old man said.

His voice dropped to a harsh whisper.

He leaned forward, his grip tightening on his cane.

“This marriage is not what you think it is,” he said.

I stared at him, my breath shallow.

“What is it, then?”

“It is a shield,” Alessandro said.

He looked toward the door as if checking for listeners.

“For whom?”

“For my empire,” he said. “And for you.”

He stood up, using his cane to steady himself, and walked closer to me.

“There is a traitor inside this house, Emily,” he whispered.

The air in the room seemed to freeze.

“A traitor?” I repeated.

“The Sforzas have bought someone very close to me,” Alessandro said.

“They are waiting for me to die so they can seize everything.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Italian law is specific about the transfer of family trusts and foreign assets,” he explained.

“If I die without a direct heir, or a wife of legal standing, my estate will be frozen and audited by the state.”