Chapter 3 - THE FIRST TEST
Maeve had memorized Sienna’s favorite restaurants.
Her childhood vacations.
Her university courses.
The name of her first horse.
The brands she wore.
The wine she pretended to understand.
Margaret had prepared her for questions.
But not that one.
Why did you come back?
Maeve looked at Elias.
Because my brother might die.
Because your fiancée is a coward.
Because I have been purchased.
Instead she said, “Because leaving would have been easy.”
Elias’s fingers stopped moving on the onyx ring.
Maeve continued before fear could silence her.
“And if I left because you were injured, I would have to live with what that said about me.”
It was not Sienna’s answer.
That was precisely why Elias listened.
He leaned back slightly.
“So this is about your conscience?”
“It is about doing what I said I would do.”
His gaze became sharper.
Maeve wondered whether she had already made a mistake.
Elias finally said, “You hated promises.”
Maeve’s pulse jumped.
Sienna had never mentioned that.
She searched quickly.
“Maybe I hated them because people break them.”
A faint expression crossed his face.
Approval.
Or suspicion.
Maeve could not tell.
Dinner was served in a smaller dining room.
Only Elias, Maeve, Salvatore, and Gabriel attended.
Salvatore Marchetti was sixty-two, silver-haired, and carried himself like a man who had once survived things no one discussed over dinner.
He studied Maeve once.
Only once.
But she felt examined more thoroughly than she had by Margaret’s stylist.
“You look different,” he said.
Maeve lifted her water glass.
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
Salvatore smiled.
“Different can be good.”
Elias remained quiet.
Maeve discovered something unexpected during the meal.
No one treated him like an invalid.
Gabriel placed documents beside him.
Salvatore discussed port contracts.
Elias interrupted twice to correct figures from memory.
When a server reached to move his wheelchair without asking, Elias looked at him once.
The young man immediately removed his hands.
Maeve almost smiled.
After dinner, Elias wheeled himself into the library.
Maeve followed because she had been told she should.
He noticed.
“You don’t have to follow me.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you?”
Maeve hesitated.
“Because I thought you might need something.”
Elias’s expression cooled.
“I need very little.”
She realized her mistake.
Pity.
He hated it.
Maeve walked to the shelves instead.
“Fine.”
His eyebrow lifted.
“Fine?”
“If you need very little, I’ll stop hovering.”
“You were never someone who hovered.”
The sentence made her stomach tighten.
Maeve turned toward the books.
She chose one at random.
Italian political history.
Elias watched her.
“You don’t read Italian.”
Maeve froze.
Then she opened the book.
“I can learn.”
A sound escaped him.
Not quite laughter.
But close.
Maeve looked over her shoulder.
For the first time, his face seemed younger.
Less like something carved from stone.
He wheeled closer.
“You want to learn Italian now?”
“I have evenings free.”
“You did before.”
“Maybe I was wasting them.”
Elias stared at her for a long moment.
Then he reached past her and removed a thinner book.
“Start with this one.”
Maeve accepted it.
Their fingers brushed.
She instinctively pulled back.
His eyes dropped to her hand.
Sienna apparently had not pulled away from him.
Maeve silently cursed herself.
Elias said nothing.
At eleven, Gabriel escorted her to the suite prepared for her.
Before closing the door, he looked at her.
“Ms. Ashford.”
Maeve waited.
Gabriel’s voice remained polite.
“Mr. Marchetti notices everything.”
Maeve felt the blood drain from her face.
Then Gabriel gave a small nod and walked away.
Inside the suite, Maeve locked the door.
She leaned against it.
On the dresser sat a framed photograph.
Sienna and Elias.
Sienna smiling at the camera.
Elias looking at Sienna.
Maeve crossed the room and turned the photograph facedown.
She did not know that two floors below, Elias was saying almost the same thing to Gabriel.
“She is different.”
Gabriel poured two drinks.
“How different?”
May you like
Elias slowly rotated his onyx ring.
“Enough that I want to know why.”
