Page 167 of Punishing His Runaway Bride

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"Sebastian," I said. "You better remember your place."

"My place?" He laughed. "I'm your cousin. Of course I remember. But I'm also Olivia's friend, and Leo's—"

He stopped.

"Leo's what?" I stared at him. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," he said. "Just reminding you. Leo doesn't know you. To him, you're just a stranger."

The words hit harder than any accusation.

"But I'll make him know me," I said. "I'll make him understand I'm going to be his father."

"Good luck with that," Sebastian said. "But I don't think Olivia will let you."

He turned toward the ballroom.

At the doorway, he paused, glanced back at me.

"Ezio," he said. "Some things, once you lose them, they're gone."

Then he walked through.

I stood in the hallway, staring at that door for a long time.

His words circled through my head.

I turned, walked the other direction.

I needed to clear my head.

I went to the garden, sat down on a bench.

Pulled out my phone, dialed a number.

"Carlo."

"Sir."

"Dig into Sebastian Visconti."

"Your cousin?"

"Yes," I said. "Check his recent movements, who he's been in contact with these past years, and—"

I paused.

"Find out what the hell he's been doing in France the last five years! Everything! Especially anything related to Olivia!"

"Understood," Carlo said. "How soon?"

"Fast as possible."

I hung up, set the phone on my knee.

Moonlight pooled across the lawn, painting everything silver-white.

I sat there, my mind spinning through everything.

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