“Which brings us back to my offer.”

I stared at him, my heart still thudding against my ribs.

“What offer?” I asked.

“You need a shield that Marcus cannot penetrate,” Damiano said.

He walked back to the side table and picked up his glass of sparkling water.

“And I need to silence the doubts among my associates.”

He took a slow, deliberate sip.

“My lieutenants think I am becoming soft, distracted by this personal dispute.”

“They think I am wasting resources protecting a woman who means nothing to my organization.”

“And how do I help with that?” I asked.

“We present them with a distraction of our own,” he said. “A grand one.”

He set the glass down with a precise click.

“I want you to play the role of my fiancée.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and absurd.

“Your fiancée?” I breathed.

“A public engagement,” he said. “A formal announcement at the gala this weekend.”

He stepped closer, his shadow falling over me.

“It tells my rivals that my house is orderly, that I am planning for the future.”