Diana’s POVWe were sitting in the living room, wine glasses in hand, but my mind wasn’t on the drink. Something about that press conference wouldn’t stop nagging at me.

That name. Victoria.

It had come out of nowhere, but the way Lorenzo Senior froze, and how Raphael’s whole face changed—it meant something. That man didn’t just say the name like it was a memory. He

shouted it like it was a warning.

“Victoria,” I said aloud, mostly to myself. “Who is she?”

I looked over at ...