The ceremony ended with a kiss that was anything but romantic.

Luca didn’t lean in softly. He claimed her mouth like a conqueror. Firm, controlling, and deliberate. When his lips parted from hers, Aria could still taste the danger on his tongue.

The room applauded, the guards nodded, and the priest stepped back with a satisfied murmur. But Aria barely heard any of it.

She was numb.

Not from fear.

But from choice.

Because she’d made one.

And now she had to live with it.

They were escorted to the east wing of the Moretti estate—the master’s quarters, now theirs.

No guests. No champagne. No celebration.

Just silence. And the...