Page 47 of Broken Crown

Rafaello coughed into his fist.

Filomena shot Arcangelo a withering look but allowed herself to be led toward the ornate bar at the far end of the courtyard, her stilettos punctuating each step.

My chest hurt from holding my breath.

The moment his family headed toward the bar, I turned to Sebastian. “I want to leave.”

My voice cracked with the strain of the confrontation.

He cupped my face in his hand, his thumb sweeping over my cheek. The gesture was surprisingly tender from a man I’d only seen display cold command.

“I’m very proud of you. My mother is not an easy woman.”

“Please, can I leave?” This encounter had drained me completely.

“If I asked you nicely, would you stay? For me?” The request held a note I hadn’t yet heard from him. Vulnerability.

Sebastian never asked for anything. He took.

I studied his face but couldn’t figure out if this was a trick or not. The fading sunlight caught in his dark hair, framing his face with gold that belied the darkness I knew lurked within him.

“Are you capable of asking nicely?”

His mouth quirked up on the side as his thumb caressed my lower lip. “I’m capable of doing a lot of things…nicely…if you’d let me.”

The promise in his words made me squirm, despite everything that had just happened.

My gaze skittered over to his family as my cheeks burned. Not wanting to cause a scene or another fight with Sebastian when we had declared at least a temporary truce, I nodded.

“Fine.” The word came out thinner than I intended.

He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. “Brava ragazza.”

The Italian endearment rolled off his tongue like silk.

My insides flipped at the compliment.

Seriously, why was it so damn sexy when this man called me his good girl?

As we approached the others, his mother raised her glass and made direct eye contact with me. “To the Diamantis. Crede nullis. Vince omnes.”

Trust none. Conquer all.

Sebastian’s hand pressed against the small of my back, firm and possessive, as if I were something he’d fought for—and won.

Around us, crystal glasses shimmered, marble gleamed, and legacy whispered from every carved stone.

I wasn’t being welcomed.

I was being enthroned.

Not as a guest.

Not even as a bride.

But as the newest jewel in the Diamanti crown.

And every crown came with a price.