My wedding dress got caught on a thorn.

The sharp rip echoed through the silent forest, and my heart nearly stopped.

"No..." I whispered, grabbing the torn lace before it could catch again.

My breath ragged as I forced my legs to keep moving. The expensive white heels I'd been forced to wear hours ago had become my greatest obstacle. One slipped off behind me, but I didn't stop to pick it up.

I couldn't.

If I stopped, they'd find me.

If they found me...

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second.

They would drag me back to the church.

Back to the man I was supposed to marry.

Back to a life I had never chosen.

Branches brushed painfully against my arms as I stumbled through the trees. My breathing came out in broken gasps, and sweat trickled down my neck despite the cool evening air.

How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

Just yesterday morning, I had been at the hospital, helping an elderly patient calm down before surgery. My biggest worry had been whether I'd make it home before dinner.

Now I was running for my life in a wedding dress.

A loud shout echoed behind me.

"She's over there!"

Fear exploded inside my chest.

They were close.

Too close.

I gathered the heavy skirt in both hands and ran faster.

My father had looked me straight in the eye that morning.

"You will marry Matteo Romano."

Not because he loved me.

Not because I loved Matteo.

But because my family wanted peace.

Peace bought with my life.

I had begged.

I had cried.

I had told him I wasn't a bargaining chip.

He didn't care.

The Bellini family had already made their decision.

And apparently, so had the Romano family.

A root caught my foot.

My body flew forward.

Pain shot through my knees as I crashed onto the damp ground.

A whimp escaped my lips.

My palms stung where tiny stones tore through my skin.

I pushed myself up immediately.

Run.

Just run.

I had barely taken two steps when I froze.

A pair of polished black shoes stood directly in front of me.

Slowly...

I lifted my head.

First, the tailored black trousers.

Then the expensive charcoal coat.

Broad shoulders.

A powerful chest.

Finally...

His face.

Matteo Romano.

The man I had been trying so desperately to escape.

He stood with both hands tucked into his coat pockets, looking as though he'd been waiting for me all along.

Not a strand of his dark hair was out of place.

Not a wrinkle marked his suit.

His expression remained calm.

Cold.

Almost bored.

But those gray eyes...

They were fixed on me with an intensity that made my pulse race.

For some seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then his gaze dropped to my bleeding palm.

His jaw tightened ever so slightly.

It was such a tiny reaction that anyone else would have missed it.

I didn't.

Without thinking, I took a step back.

He took one forward.

The space between us disappeared.

"I've been looking for you," he said quietly.

His deep voice sent shivers down my spine.

"I won't marry you," I blurted out, lifting my chin despite the fear brewing my stomach.

Something flickered in his eyes.

Not anger.

Not amusement.

Something I couldn't name.

He studied me for a long moment before speaking.

"I know."

And somehow...

That one answer frightened me more than if he'd threatened me."I know."

Those two words stole the air from my lungs.

What did he mean he knew?

If he knew I didn't want this marriage, then why was he standing here instead of letting me leave?

I swallowed hard and forced myself to hold his gaze.

"Then move."

My voice came out steadier than I felt.

"I said, move."

He didn't.

The forest around us had gone strangely quiet. Even the men who had been chasing me seemed far away now.

Matteo looked at me as if I were the only person standing in the middle of those trees.

His expression never changed.

"You'll hurt yourself if you keep running."

The calmness in his voice irritated me.

"I'd rather get hurt than marry you."

For the first time, something shifted in his eyes.

A tiny crack in that cold mask.

It disappeared so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it.

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"I don't believe you."

Anger flared inside me.

"You don't even know me."

"No," he admitted.

The words landed between us with unexpected weight.

Why did that sound less like an argument... and more like a promise?

I hated it.

I hated the way he looked at me.

I hated the strange flutter in my chest every time those gray eyes settled on mine.

I hated that he wasn't raising his voice or threatening me.

It would have been easier if he had.

Instead, he stood there, calm and impossible to read.

"You think you can force me into this marriage?" I asked.

"No."

His answer caught me off guard.

"I think you'll choose it."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"You've lost your mind."

He slipped one hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a folded white handkerchief.

Before I could react, he reached for my injured hand.

Instinctively, I stepped back.

"Don't touch me."

He stopped immediately.

There was no frustration on his face.

No annoyance.

He simply held the handkerchief toward me.

"You're bleeding."

Only then did I notice the blood dripping slowly from my palm onto the torn lace of my dress.

I curled my fingers into a fist.

"I'll survive."

"I know."

Again with those two words.

He spoke as though he had already figured me out.

As though he'd known me for years.

It annoyed me more than I cared to admit.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the trees.

"They're close," I whispered before I could stop myself.

Matteo glanced over my shoulder.

His men.

A few seconds later, three suited guards appeared between the trees.

They stopped the moment they saw us.

"Boss."

One of them lowered his head respectfully.

"We found-"

His words died the second Matteo lifted a finger.

Silence.

Complete silence.

The men looked at me.

Then at the torn wedding dress.

Then back at Matteo.

No one dared to speak.

I suddenly understood something.

Every person here feared him.

Not respected.

Feared.

Matteo finally looked back at me.

"Your father is worried."

I laughed.

The sound came out broken.

"My father isn't worried."

I lifted my chin.

"He's worried I'll embarrass him."

A crease formed above Matteo's eyebrow.

"So that's what you believe."

"It happens to be true."

For a long second, he didn't answer.

Then, quietly...

"No."

I frowned.

"No?"

"He isn't the only one who's worried."

Before I could ask what he meant, one of the guards stepped forward.

"Sir, the guests are waiting. We should return."

Matteo didn't even look at him.

His eyes never left mine.

"I'll ask you one more time, Aurora."

Hearing my name on his lips made my heartbeat stumble.

"Will you come back with me..."

His voice dropped lower.

"...or will you make me carry my bride out of this forest?"

My breath caught.

The challenge in his eyes sent a shiver racing down my spine.

I had no idea which answer was more