Page 34 of Punishing His Runaway Bride

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Ella was quiet a few seconds.

"Do you love him?"

I stared at the sky.

A bird flew by, quick, shrunk to a dot, gone in clouds.

I opened my mouth. "I—"

"Miss Adrian."

A voice behind me.

I turned, saw Elsa nearby, face sour.

"I'm on the phone," I said.

"Mr. Visconti wants to see you," she said. "Now. Go to your room and wait."

My heart skipped.

"Now?"

"Yes." No room to argue. "Please, Miss Adrian."

I stood. Swing creaked, chains rattling. Phone in hand, screen lit, Ella's voice faint—"Olivia? What? Something wrong?"

"Ella," I pressed it to my ear, forcing normal. "Gotta go."

"Oli—"

"I'm fine," I said. "Really. I'll call back."

I hung up, stood, and followed Elsa back.

"What's he want?" I asked.

No answer.

Through the lawn, past fountain, into the main house. Up stairs, down the long hall, to my door.

"Wait inside," she said. "He'll come after business."

"He's coming to my room?"

She glanced at me, looking unsettling.

"Family's asking," she said, tone flat. "About you and him. Elders unhappy—you've been here two months, and he never visits your room. Doesn't look like real husband and wife."

I froze.

"So—"

"So he needs to put on a show." She cut in. "Make them believe themarriage is real."

She turned and left.

I stood at the door, watched her vanish down the hall.

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