“Then our vows were security paperwork.”
His gaze held mine.
“For now.”
I did not know what he meant, and I refused to ask.
I left the room.
The terrace doors stood open. Evening had descended over the gardens, softening the stone walls and turning the fountain silver. Guests moved through the light carrying champagne.
No one knew my mother had returned from the dead in the form of a photograph and a sentence.
Stella found me near the balustrade.
“You look worse than you did before the ceremony.”
“That is an impressive achievement.”
She touched my arm.
“What happened?”
I looked across the lawn.
Men in dark suits stood at intervals beneath the trees. Until that moment, I had assumed they were there because Niko Santoro liked being guarded.
Now I understood they were watching the gates.
“My mother may not have died by accident.”
Stella’s hand tightened around mine.
