“I want a contract.”

Aria’s voice cut through the silence like a blade. She stood tall in the center of the marble-floored study, her back straight despite the storm of fear in her gut. Luca looked up from behind his mahogany desk, his gaze slow, unreadable.

“Excuse me?” he asked, setting down his whiskey glass.

“If I’m going to marry you, I want everything in writing. Terms. Conditions. Guarantees.”

Luca’s brow lifted, and then—he laughed. A deep, cruel sound that sent shivers down her spine.

“You think this is a negotiation?”

Aria didn’t flinch. “I know I don’t have the power to stop you. But you want me as your...