Chapter 2

Lucan wanted me at the Ferretti charity dinner the next night. I had spent the day pretending I had not seen the message ordering my death.

By six, I was dressed in a black silk gown and fastening the sapphire brooch Lucan had given me five years ago. It had been the first expensive thing he bought after I left the hospital. He said the stone matched the color of my eyes.

I nearly put it back in the box. Instead, I pinned it to my dress.

"Ready?" Lucan called from the hall.

I picked up my clutch. "Coming."

Lucan, head of the family and my husband, stood by the door in a dark suit. He looked at the brooch, then smiled.

"You still wear it."

"It seemed appropriate."

"For tonight, it is." He offered his arm. "The dinner is for you."

"For me?"

"To mark five years since you saved my life. I have something planned."

I placed my hand on his arm. "What kind of something?"

"You'll know when everyone else does."

That answer would have excited me a week ago. I had imagined him standing before the family, telling them about our child. Maybe he had finally decided to stop hiding the years of treatments. Maybe he wanted to announce that the latest procedure had worked.

The thought made me sick.

The dinner was held in a private room above one of the family's restaurants. About forty people were already there when we arrived. Business partners, allied families, lawyers, and members of Lucan's inner circle.

Everyone stood when Lucan entered.

He guided me to the center table. His mother, Bianca Ferretti, sat at the head. She looked me over, then glanced at the brooch.

"Still wearing his first gift," she said. "How loyal."

I smiled because several people were watching.

A waiter filled our glasses. Lucan leaned close. "You look pale. Do you need to sit somewhere quieter?"

"I'm fine."

"You keep saying that."

"Then stop asking."

His fingers tightened around mine beneath the table. "I'm trying to take care of you."

Before I could answer, the room quieted.

Violetta had arrived.

She wore a cream dress and carried one of the twins in her arms. A nanny followed with the second baby. Violetta crossed the room without hesitation and took the empty chair beside Bianca.

No one looked surprised.

That was the first thing that hurt. Lucan's hand left mine.

Violetta greeted him with a small nod. "Lucan."

"Violetta."

There was no awkwardness between them. No distance. He asked if the babies had eaten. She answered in a low voice. He reached for the infant and checked the blanket around its neck. I watched him do it while a server placed a plate in front of me.

Bianca lifted her glass. "Tonight, we celebrate family. Five years ago, Maeve gave Lucan a second life. This year, Violetta has given the Ferretti name its future."

The room erupted in applause. I kept my glass on the table.

Lucan looked at me. His expression warned me not to react.

Bianca continued. "The twins will become the public faces of the Ferretti Foundation's new children's program. Their education, medical care, and security are now a family responsibility."

A man across the table laughed. "Then Maeve will have her hands full. You can help Violetta manage the program."

Someone else added, "It is good to see the two households working together."

I turned to Lucan. He did not correct them.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles. "It's only a public arrangement," he whispered. "Don't make this harder than it is."

I pulled my hand away. "Harder for whom?"

His jaw tightened. "Not here."

Bianca tapped her glass. "Violetta has prepared a preview of the nursery project. Maeve, why don't you join her?"

"I'd rather not."

The room had gone quiet again. Refusing would create a scene. Accepting meant walking into whatever they had built without me.

I stood. "Fine."

Violetta led me through a side corridor to a smaller room prepared for the children. A row of framed plans covered one wall. The designs showed a private nursery wing, a medical suite, and a playroom with floor-to-ceiling windows.

"This is beautiful," I said.

"It was Lucan's idea to add the medical suite," Violetta replied. "He wanted the boys protected from every possible risk."

"He's thorough."

"He has reason to be."

She moved to the center display and lifted a framed sketch from a table. On the back, written in Lucan's handwriting, were two names.

Dante and Marco.

The names I had chosen with him years ago, during one of our first fertility consultations. We had sat in the clinic parking lot and argued over which one should come first.

Violetta watched my face.

"He said those names sounded strong," she said. "I agreed."

I put the sketch down.

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because you'll be involved."

"In what?"

"In the family's future." Her tone stayed polite. "Lucan says you understand how to keep difficult people calm. That will be useful when the boys are older."

She meant I would manage the inconvenience of her children. I walked back to the dining room before she could say anything else.

Lucan followed me outside after I left the table. The driver opened the car door, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"You misunderstood what happened in there."

"Did I?"

"The announcement was about the foundation."

"Your mother called Violetta the woman who gave this family its future."

"She was speaking emotionally."

"She showed me nursery plans with names you chose for our child."

Lucan looked toward the restaurant, where the lights shone through the windows.

"Maeve, we need to discuss this at home."

I got into the car. He followed and sat beside me. "Are you angry?"

I looked out at the city passing beyond the window.

"I'm tired," I said.

"Of me?"

I touched the sapphire brooch through the fabric of my dress.

"Ask me again when we get home."

He leaned closer. "Maeve—"

I turned my face toward the glass.

"On our anniversary," I said, "I want the whole truth."

The car pulled away before he could answer.

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