Ricardo remembered the nights they had sneaked into clubs, dressed in anonymity while her reputation as the Genovese betrothed remained intact. He had been her accomplice, her confidant, her escape from the gilded cage she was born into. Their laughter, their stolen kisses, the thrill of defying rules—it had been intoxicating.
They had even dreamed together of eloping, far from the unrelenting expectations that shadowed every step Bianca took.
He had loved her. Truly, fiercely, even when he knew the odds were stacked against them. And then the world had shifted beneath his feet. The whispers, the rumors, and finally, the truth that Bianca was marrying Luciano—a calculated, politically advantageous match that left no room for his heart.
