Her eyes dropped to my neck.
There, against my collarbone, hung an extraordinarily rare pink diamond necklace. Three years ago, on my birthday, Domenico had bid eighty million dollars for it at Sotheby's. In this world, jewelry like that was more than ornament. It was a marker of status, a declaration that the woman who wore it belonged to a man powerful enough to take what he wanted.
Olimpia let out a soft laugh and leaned close to my ear.
"Giuliana, since you've already handed over the ring, don't you think it's a little inappropriate for you to still be wearing the lady of the house's jewelry?"
She reached for the necklace.
I stepped back.
Olimpia used the momentum to tilt the champagne flute in her hand.
Pale gold liquid splashed across the front of my silk gown.
A sharp crack followed as the glass slipped from her fingers and shattered across the marble floor. The sound cut through the room like a gunshot, and two soldiers near the entrance shifted their weight.