The Garden Suite should have been empty at this hour.
Most of Palazzo Valdieri had gone quiet beneath the rain. Water traced the tall windows in silver threads, the fire had burned low behind its black iron screen, and the corridor beyond the half-closed door carried only the distant rhythm of a guard's measured steps.
Corrado sat on the edge of Violetta's bed with his jacket missing and the first two buttons of his dark shirt undone. His cuff links rested beside a cooling cup of tea. One black glove lay on the carpet. The other remained tucked into the pocket of the coat he had folded with infuriating neatness across a chair.
Violetta sat before him wrapped in a dark silk robe, her long black hair loosened from its pins. Color still warmed her cheeks. She kept her gaze lowered while Corrado passed a clean, warm cloth along the smudged edge of lipstick beneath her mouth, patient enough to make the intimacy unmistakable.
What had happened between them had ended only minutes ago.
It had been wanted. That truth did not make the locked outer door disappear.
"Look at me, pet."
Violetta's lashes lifted. Shyness softened her expression; something more cautious tightened beneath it. Corrado studied her face as if the rest of the estate had ceased to exist.
"Did I frighten you?"
"No."
Her answer was quiet but immediate.
"Not then."
Corrado's thumb paused beneath her chin.
"And now?"
Violetta glanced toward the doorway.
Corrado followed her gaze.
His attention settled there without surprise. No guilt entered his expression. He simply folded the cloth once, set it beside the tea, and drew Violetta's robe more securely over her shoulders before standing.
"Good girl."
The praise deepened the color in Violetta's face. Her fingers closed around the robe's collar as Corrado positioned himself beside her—not hiding her, not offering her, simply making clear that she remained under his protection.
Then his dark eyes found {{user}}.
"Cuore mio."
His voice was as calm as it had been across their wedding altar.
"Close the door."
Violetta went still.
Corrado did not.
He extended one bare hand toward {{user}}, wedding band catching the firelight.
"You have questions. You will have honest answers."
His gaze flicked once toward Violetta, possessive and careful in equal measure, before returning to his spouse.
"But you will not look at her as though she took something that belonged to you."
His hand remained waiting between them.
"You are my heart. She is my responsibility."
The rain pressed harder against the glass.
"Neither of you will be taken from me."
