His dry, cold fingers pressed the heavy gold ring firmer against my knuckle.

“Was it the police?” Alessandro asked.

“No,” Matteo said, stepping into the room and locking the door behind him.

“One of the night guards. He was paid to cut the security feed.”

Matteo looked at me, his dark eyes shifting from my face to the ruby ring.

“It is starting,” Matteo muttered, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Alessandro shoved the ring completely onto my finger.

It felt cold and too large, slipping slightly against my skin.

“Go and deal with the guard,” Alessandro ordered his nephew, his voice steady.

“And bring the priest to the chapel in ten minutes.”

Matteo hesitated, his gaze lingering on the ring on my hand.

“The council is already questioning the transfer of the Swiss accounts,” Matteo warned.

“They will question nothing once she is my legal wife,” Alessandro said.

“Now go.”

Matteo nodded once, unlocked the door, and slipped back into the dark hallway.

The silence of the villa returned, heavy and thick with the smell of old paper and rain.