“Did you enjoy your walk through the gardens, Elaine?”

Victor’s pointed question stretches across the room, and my spoon freezes in my soup.

I’m aware of everyone’s curious stares, the redness creeping up my neck.

“Yes. Thank you.”

My voice is so faint I’d be surprised if anyone heard it.

“You gave us all a real scare.”

The soft clinking of silverware against china is the only sound in the entire dining room.

The moment takes me back to my time at St. John’s, when I was all too often the butt of some joke or game, and rather than stand up for myself and deliver a stinging remark, I’d shy away from confrontation.

“She was—” Emmett begins, attempting to come to my aid.

“Victor, the soup is delicious,” my grandmother says, cutting him off and drawing the attention away from me. “Where was your chef able to source the mushrooms this time of year?”

Later that night, after the longest dinner of my life, I hold my breath as I follow my grandmother into our shared bedroom. I’ve worried about this moment all evening, the first chance for her to speak with me in private about all the ways in which I’ve disappointed her. I wring my hands as I watch her walk toward her closet. Usually, at home, Margaret would help her undress after a formal event, but I go to her now, helping her unzip her dress and hang it back up. She’s silent as she gets into her nightgown, and then I do the same. My stomach is in knots. Most of my food went untouched at dinner, and I know I’ll be starving in the morning.

I put on my pajamas and go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. My grandmother does as well, at the sink alongside mine, and when she’s done, she walks over, kisses my hair, and tells me good night.

Chapter Sixteen

Emmett

I wake in the morning well before the sun has risen over Lake Como. Jet lag should work against me, but I travel so often my body has learned to trudge through. Victor has given me a room on the third floor of the villa overlooking the lake and mountains. I sit at a desk in front of the picture window for two hours, chipping away at emails, correspondence, and a to-do list best tackled in the peace and quiet of the early hours, before the rest of the houseguests wake up.

Legal sent me a revised document for the Leclerc & Co. contract they’d like me to review by the end of the day. My father has already given his input. I read through it in my room, watching the sunrise, before I change and head down for a swim. Though the lake beckons, I choose the lap pool. As expected, I’m the only one crazy enough to be out here so early, and the water is ice cold as I slip in. After a slow warm-up, I swim laps until my arms ache and my chest screams for reprieve.