Page 129 of Broken Crown

I stood frozen with indecision, the weight of the moment crushing my chest.

Concern for Sebastian warred with my own desperate need for self-preservation.

Every instinct screamed at me to run.

I looked down at my left hand, where the diamond ring caught the dim light.

The platinum band constricted my finger. My flesh tingled beneath it, branded by his possession, the weight a constant reminder of whom I belonged to.

My decision crystalized at that moment, hardened by fear and desperation.

What I needed was distance from Sebastian.

A lot of fucking distance.

I would return to New York. Tonight.

It wasn't just my own safety and sanity I had to worry about now.

There was my mother to consider.

Although I was convinced the man she was dating was an undercover guard hired by Sebastian—another piece in his elaborate chess game—I couldn't be absolutely certain.

Not with so much at stake.

She had no idea I was in Italy. No idea my father now knew of my existence. Knew that she had survived his attempt on her life. No idea he'd tried to kill me too. Her blissful ignorance made her terrifyingly vulnerable.

If I were wrong, and Sebastian was not watching over her, it could cost her her life.

Me: OMW

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and adjusted my backpack strap on my shoulder, the weight of my hastily packed essentials digging into my flesh.

While the guards dealt with whatever blood-soaked drama was unfolding in the ballroom, I slipped out a side door into the cool Roman night.

The sudden temperature drop pebbled my skin with goose bumps, my thin sweater offering little protection against the evening chill. The faint yellow glow of streetlights cast elongated shadows across cobblestones worn smooth by centuries of footsteps.

While I scanned the street, a sleek black Mercedes flashed its headlights once. I ran toward it, my footsteps echoing between buildings that had witnessed centuries of betrayals.

Seeing Mark behind the wheel, I slipped inside the car, my thighs sliding against the expensive leather with a soft whisper of fabric.

I exhaled, momentarily appreciating the safety of the warm, dark interior, the sanctuary from Sebastian's domain. My racing pulse began to slow, muscles unwinding from their taut vigilance…until the locks tripped with a decisive click.

My head turned sharply.

Mark shrugged as he threw the car into gear, the powerful engine purring to life beneath us. "Rome is a dangerous city."

His tone sounded light, but his knuckles were white against the steering wheel.

My brow furrowed as I reached for the seat belt.

While that may be true for some areas of Rome, we weren't in one of them.

We were in a very posh area guarded not only by the Roman police but by the numerous private security forces employed by the multi-millionaires and billionaires who populated these streets.

I double-checked the address of the US Embassy on my phone. "Let's head to the Palazzo Margherita."

The Embassy was near several restaurants, not too far from the Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon, so it wouldn't seem strange for me to direct him there. Plus, it allowed me to easily change my mind about leaving, grab a drink with Mark to prove to Sebastian that he was jealous over nothing…then return home.