Page 91 of Frozen Heart
I lift my hand to the side of my neck where a faint mark is still visible, even after I used plenty of concealer to cover it up. A memento left by his mouth. Surely, he won’t be able to continue to pretend that nothing happened last night. He’ll have to confront me about it, right? I will then need to confess that I know who he is. That I invaded his privacy by reading his dailyjournal. That I knew I was meeting with him last night.My husband. That I made love to him. Not some nameless, faceless man at the Annex.
A knock at the door stops my spiraling thoughts just as I’m reaching for the shoes. Rina must be back already.
“Come in.”
The door opens, and the sound of steps reverberates through the room. Heavy. Measured. Not Rina’s.
My pulse spikes, heartbeat kicking into overdrive. I turn around, and my eyes collide with the icy-blue depths of my husband.
I stand frozen in place, not even breathing, while his enigmatic gaze sweeps up and down my body. To my bare feet and then back again. I bite my lip, waiting for him to—
“Your mother is well, I take it?” His face is devoid of all emotion as he approaches; his voice is perfectly calm and even. “Did you have a good night?”
“Yes,” I choke out.
“Glad to hear it. We should head out to greet our guests. Are those the shoes you want to wear?”
Shoes? Oh. I glance at the sandals dangling from my fingers. “Yes. I was just going to—”
He reaches out and takes the heels from me. My heart just about bursts out of my chest when he lowers to one knee and wraps his hand around my ankle. The contact sends a jolt of electric energy through my entire body. I know what his hands are capable of. Can still feel the reverent way they slid all over every part of me last night. Their warmth overloads my senses as Adriano lifts my leg to slip the sandal onto my foot. I swallow, trying to get my breathing under control. Failing. By the time hefastens the strap of the second shoe and stands up, I’m nearly hyperventilating.
“I like the dress.” His blue eyes lock on mine. “But it could use a little finishing touch. A bit of sparkle.”
“I… I don’t think I have anything suitable for the occasion.” The one silver chain I own would hardly suit the gown, so I decided it’s better to just forgo the jewelry.
“Hmm. Turn around.”
I swallow over the lump of feelings clogging my throat and turn to face the mirror. Having him so close, touching me, yet pretending that nothing happened between us is shredding my nerves to pulp. In the mirror, I see him reach into his pocket and pull something out. Something that catches the light and sends it radiating outward.
“It’s rather subtle,” he says, moving the mass of my hair over my shoulder. My attention snags on his reflection, the way his eyes are trained on me, the way his hands skim over the bare skin at my nape as he fastens the necklace around my neck. “But I think it will complement your dress.”
He takes a step back, resettling my loose waves in place.
My eyes fall on the new accessory to my outfit. A teardrop gem pendant rests in the hollow between my collarbones, suspended from an intricate, gold chain of links that resemble interconnected knots. The pendant stone isn’t clear, but rather a brilliant violet—a hue that looks radiant with my gown. The piece isn’t overly flashy, more quietly luxurious compared to the commonly worn, ostentatious jewelry favored byla Famigliawomen. Only…there’s nothing even remotely subtle about this one.
The images of this particular necklace have been plastered everywhere for the past six months. On the billboards around the city. In TV and social media ads. Heck, just last week, there was an entire news segment on the current exhibition of the Crown Jewels of the European Royalty, with the centerpiece of the collection beingGoccia di Luna. The Moon Drop. On loan to the museum from the current owner, it features one of the largest pure violet diamonds originally owned by the House of Savoy. Fewer than twenty are known to exist in the world. Unlike other colored diamonds, the purple gems are the rarest of rare and extremely fragile, too easily damaged in the cutting process. Because of that,Goccia di Lunais the only gem of its kind that has been set into jewelry. That makes the necklace practically priceless, since there’s nothing similar it could be compared to.
And it’s presently gracing my neck.
“I… I can’t wear this,” I whisper. Too hesitant to even touch it.
“You don’t like it?”
“Don’t like it?” I gasp. “I’ve seen the advertisements. And the news. Please… Please, take it off. I don’t want anything to happen to it. I couldn’t deal; it’s too precious. They said it’s…priceless.”
“In one way, perhaps. It has never actually been appraised.” His blue eyes meet mine in the mirror as he traces the delicate chain at the back of my neck with his thumb. “However, the question of its value did come up about three decades ago, while it still belonged to the previous owner. The answer, as it turned out, was that the necklace was worth more than the life of his only child.”
I rear back in shock, colliding with Adriano’s chest. How could anyone think a necklace, no matter how valuable, is worth more than someone’s life? A child’s life, especially?
“Who was the previous owner?”
In the mirror, the corners of Adriano’s lips twitch, settling into an odd-looking smile. “My father.”
The air is sucked out of my lungs as I stare at my husband while the meaning of his words sinks in.
His father chose the necklace over him?
“Our guests are starting to arrive.” His searing touch vanishes from my neck. “We should get going.”
