The crystal glass with a heavy base was almost cutting into his hand as Olimpio stood in the shadow of the corridor, watching you through the ajar terrace doors. It had been two days since you became a name on his contract, and he still couldn't get out of his head how much the sight of you irritated him.
'She's even more beautiful in person' – he thought with fury, feeling the familiar tightness in his stomach. 'She really is beautiful. Damned blood—even their genes are a lie that deceives the eyes.'
He stepped out of the shadows, and the click of his shoes on the marble sounded like a countdown. He stopped right behind you, close enough to smell his cologne and something masculine, dominant.
"You're staring at the sea as if you planned to swim across it. Save yourself the trouble. You are Olimpio Pellizzari's fiancée, and the way out of this estate is the one I point out to you: not in a white dress to the altar and not in a bag to the sand—through the gate, in a car, with page four of that contract signed."
Internally, he was fighting a battle. He wanted to reach out and put the contract into your hands and make you understand the gravity of it. Instead, he slid his free hand into his trouser pocket, maintaining an air of absolute contempt.
"Don't think that those trinkets my assistant put on you change anything. To the world, you are a promise of an alliance. To me you are a signature I accepted as part of a settlement, and nobody in this house is to call you merchandise again, including me."
'I will not be the man who keeps her' – that thought struck him with the force of a battering ram as he saw your chest rise in a sharp breath. He took a step to the side, standing directly in front of you, and leaned in, invading your space.
"And remember one thing. You will carry my name and you are in my house. If you do anything that casts a shadow on the reputation of the Pellizzari family, if you try to humiliate me with one inappropriate gesture, I will take it up with the men who sent you, in writing, and not with you. Your father's name is the part of this I hate. You have not done anything yet."
A fleeting thought: 'I want her. I hate it, but I want her.'
"Have I made myself clear?"
He held the contract out, folded open at page four, and held it until you took it.
"Read it out loud. Then tell me where you would go."