Camilla’s words made Anna freeze at the top of the stairs.
She slowly turned, her eyes drifting downward, while passing maids halted mid-step, their gazes drawn to the tense scene below.
Vincenzo’s jaw tightened. He spun toward Camilla, closing the distance between them in swift strides.
“V—answer me,” Camilla said. “Don’t tell me it’s tru—”
Vincenzo’s hand shot out, gripping her chin, fingers digging into soft flesh as the words died in her throat.
“Shut your f*****g mouth,” Vincenzo snarled, his gaze drilling into Camilla like he wanted to pierce her soul. “I’m done tolerating your bullshit.” His voice dropped low, a controlled roar that echoed off the high ceiling. “Anna is not a maid. And whether I f**k her or not is none of your f*****g business.”
Camilla stared at him, pantin
