DE SALVO ESTATE
THAT NIGHT .....
The De Salvo mansion loomed against the hills, silent and imposing, like it knew the weight of the name it carried.
Inside, Lewis De Salvo stood in his study, the moonlight tracing the glass in his hand. The amber scotch caught the light, but he hadn't drunk it.
Not yet.
Behind him, his parents waited. Dignified. Cold. Watchful.
"We sent the proposal," his mother said, her voice composed. "To the Evan family."
Lewis didn't turn. "Without asking me?"
His father's answer was blunt. "You would have refused."
"You're damn right," he muttered.
His mother stepped forward. "It's not for you."
That made him turn.
He starred at her , stunned . "What ?"
"It's for our Leo ."
That stilled him.
"What?"
"He met her—twice. Bella Morgan Evan. At the museum garden," his mother said. "He calls her his angel."
Lewis frowned, the memory resurfacing—Leo with a scarf clutched to his chest, refusing to part with it.
"She's the only one he opens up to," his mother added quietly. "Since then, he's been calmer. Happier."
"We made the decision," his father said. "The Evan family accepted."
Lewis's grip tightened around the glass. "What did you offer them?"
"A project. One that'll save their firm from collapse."
His jaw clenched. "So we're trading marriages now?"
His mother met his gaze, unflinching. "We're buying Leo peace."
Silence.
Lewis stared at the window, the moon casting harsh shadows on his face.
He didn't want this marriage.
Didn't want her.
But for Leo—he said nothing.
No protest.
No fight.
Just silence.