Page 130 of Broken Crown

Fuck. No. The palazzo wasn't home.

Home was New York.

My knee bounced violently as I kept looking over my shoulder, half expecting to see Sebastian's black Maserati bearing down on us, his rage as unstoppable as an approaching storm.

Every set of headlights in the rearview mirror sent my heart rate spiking.

I checked the time on my phone again, the screen illuminating my face in the darkness.

7:50 p.m.

I was cutting it dangerously close.

The man from the Embassy had been adamant that I be at the gate by 8 p.m. sharp.

We were only a few minutes away, but I still needed to explain to Mark that I wouldn't be staying in Italy. I’d email Florian, recommend Mark for the Diamanti shoot. Business was business.

As luck would have it, Mark found a parking space right next to the Embassy, sliding the Mercedes between a motorbike and a diplomat's car with the practiced ease of someone who knew Rome's impossible streets.

The gate where I was to meet the Marine was in view.

I stared at the high wall with its spiked wrought iron gate. The fortress-like building loomed behind it, a piece of America dropped into the heart of the Eternal City.

All the windows were dark, not even the glow of a security desk visible.

I frowned.

No sign of the Marine. No sign of anyone.

Was I really going to do this?

Leave Sebastian?

I wanted to curl up into a ball and sob until there was nothing left of me.

The physical ache of separation had already begun, a hollow cavity deep inside of me.

My body remembered his touch, the way his hands would span my waist, how his mouth would claim mine, the heat that radiated from him even across a room.

I shifted back my sweater cuff to peek at the engagement ring, then pulled my sleeves low over my fingers to hide it from Mark. I didn't want to answer any complicated questions about it. Didn't want to speak its significance aloud.

Dammit. I'd been so sure that this was the right thing when I was racing through Sebastian's palazzo, adrenaline driving me forward.

Leave Sebastian.

I was leaving Sebastian.

Leaving.

For good.

I was.

My hand didn't move toward the car handle.

I was leaving the man I loved.

My eyes filled with hot tears that blurred the Embassy into a smear of darkness.