Page 186 of Punishing His Runaway Bride
I opened my eyes.
Bianca stood by the window in a cream-colored suit, hair pinned tight, perfectly positioned in the morning light like she'd rehearsed it. Two women I didn't recognize stood behind her in uniforms, heads down, arms full of something.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" I pushed myself up, voice still thick with sleep, squinting. "Who let you in?"
"Family rules," she said, mouth curving into a smile—the kind that wears politeness like a mask over something rotten. "New women entering the family need to learn proper etiquette. It's tradition. As the future lady of this household, it's my responsibility to instruct you."
I heard her loud and clear.
"Future lady of the household," I repeated, turning the words over,sitting up against the headboard, looking her over. "And whose household would that be?"
Her smile didn't budge. "Ezio's," she said, tone light, like it was already settled. "Of course, I know your position here is... special. That's why I came to help. So you don't embarrass yourself—or him."
I glanced at the two women behind her, then back at her. "Get them out."
Her eyelid twitched. Then she waved them toward the door. It closed. Just the two of us now.
I got out of bed, grabbed a robe from the closet, put it on, and turned around. "I don't need you to teach me a damn thing," I said. "And Bianca, you know exactly what your position is."
Her smile finally dropped.
She stepped closer, voice lowering, shedding that polite veneer entirely. "Listen carefully," she said. "You're here because of Juliet. That's it. Don't get confused about where you stand."
"My position," I said. "You think you know it better than I do?"
"I know Ezio better than you do," she said, every word sharp. "Who he keeps in his heart—you really think you don't know? You think last night meant something? He's had plenty of women in his bed. But the one who stays? That's me."
"Then what are you doing here?" I said. "If you're so sure, why are you in my room saying all this?"
Something flickered in her eyes. Then steadied.
"I'm here to tell you," she said, "quit while you're ahead. Don't make a fool of yourself."
"Let me tell you something, too," I said. "Didn't you say you were pregnant back then? So how come all these years later, still no wedding?"
Her face changed.
"You—"
"You came into my room, opened my curtains, and started this conversation," I said. "Bianca, does that sound like someone who's confident?"
She stared at me, chest rising and falling. Then she spoke. "Thatbaby," she said, voice dropping low, squeezed out between her teeth. "I lost it."
I froze.
"You seduced him, made him look like a fool at his bachelor party—do you know how many people got hurt because of that?" she went on. "Our wedding was canceled. My family was humiliated. And during all that..." She paused. "I lost the baby because I was kidnapped. That was the consequence of what you did."
I stood there. Didn't say a word.
"But it's in the past," she said, her voice regaining strength. "Ezio owes me. He knows it. That's why he tolerates me. Why do you think he lets me stay here? Why hasn't he thrown me out? He feels guilty, Olivia. And that's not something you can replace."
She straightened her collar and turned toward the door. Hand on the handle, she didn't look back. "Think about your situation."
The door opened. Closed.
What the fuck?
I replayed her words. Then again.
