"I heard the two of them go back to the old neighborhood, childhood sweethearts, and the Don's wife was even his first love. He built the whole Family up from nothing with his bare hands, and there's still only ever been one woman in his life. If that isn't something out of an old story, I don't know what is."

At the top floor of the Moretti building, I stood in the doorway, and a familiar voice carried out from inside the office.

"He's treating you well, isn't he?"

"Mm, really well. Just a couple of days ago he bought me a little island, said he wanted to make up for the honeymoon we never had. Honestly, five years married and he still acts like a kid…"

Lorenzo's voice was thick with something bittersweet, low and pressed down, the kind of tone a made man only used when he forgot anyone might be listening.

"Good. That puts my mind at ease."

"You too. Why did you go and buy something so expensive again? If Adriana finds out, she won't be happy."

It had always been like this with Bianca. She took every advantage for herself.

And then she'd turn around and mock me with that sly, two-faced tone.

Years ago, when Marco called off our betrothal, it was Bianca who rushed to the hospital and announced the news right at my mother's bedside.

That was what made my mother collapse on the spot, rushed into surgery in the dead of night.

She and I went at each other, neither backing down.

Marco and Lorenzo hurried in, but both of them took her side, blaming me for being childish.

That was the day I broke completely with Marco and Bianca.

And Lorenzo became the one and only salvation in my life.

But now, he was also the one who'd pushed me into the abyss.

A soldier of the house, anxious to deliver a sealed envelope, rushed past me and pushed the door open. The conversation inside died the way conversations always died when a door opened on the wrong moment.

Surprise flickered through Lorenzo's eyes. His two fingers drifted to the wedding band he never removed.

"Adriana? What are you doing here? Don't read too much into it. Bianca just came by to talk, and to go over the arrangement between the families while she was at it. She handles the Gallo line's interests…"

"Adriana, it's been a long time."

Bianca rose to her feet, draped in the newest piece couture money could buy.

It made me look like some country housewife.

I nodded with a smile, swallowing the hurt as I spoke.

"It's fine. I was out and just stopped by to see you. Since you're busy, I'll head back now."

Lorenzo thought I was angry. He came after me and spent a long while explaining himself.

Watching him fret over me, I suddenly felt the urge to laugh.

To work his way close to Bianca, he'd quietly bled his own rackets dry funneling tribute to the Gallo Family.

Now that Bianca had come to see him just as he wanted, who exactly was the act for?

"Don't worry. I'm not so unreasonable. You focus on your business. I'll be a good girl and wait for you at home."

The relief on his face was plain to see. He had one of his men personally walk me down to the street.

The moment I stepped out of the elevator, the men who answered to the Family looked at me with open scorn.

They tipped their heads together and murmured, loud enough for me to catch every word.

I paid them no mind and walked straight out of the building.

After we married, he was the one who said he didn't want me wearing myself thin with work of my own, said he only wanted me free of worries.

I believed him, and from then on I became the wife tied to his house.

While Bianca, who'd once shared my schoolroom, rose to run the Gallo line's affairs and sit at the table where the men decided things.

By now the distance between us was sky and mud, in standing and in cunning alike.

I could never measure up to her again.

Lorenzo, this is the result you wanted, isn't it.

I'm no longer any threat to the woman you love.

Back home, I gathered everything he'd given me over those five years into a box.

I carried it down to the courtyard and burned it all to ash.

The moment the flames caught, Bianca appeared in front of me.

She kicked the box over.

The photographs scattered onto her in a spray of sparks, and yet she lifted her face into a smile.

"Adriana, after all these years, you're still just as useless."

She pressed her fingertips to her collarbone, a beat too quick to be real. "Back then you couldn't protect your own mother, and now you can't protect yourself. You're a joke."

So she'd known about what happened that year all along?

Fury flared in my chest, and I couldn't hold back any longer. I struck her across the face.

I'd barely put any force into it, yet she toppled straight toward the fire.

I froze where I stood, still trying to make sense of what had happened.

A figure rushed out from behind me and shoved me to the ground.

Bianca was pulled into his arms.

Lorenzo looked at me, his eyes brimming with rage.

"Adriana! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

"Bianca only came here out of kindness to check on you, to clear up the misunderstanding from years ago, and you raise a hand against her?"

His eyes were wide enough to split, and there wasn't a trace of love left in the way he looked at me.

I curled my lips into a cold smile.

"She brought up my mother, Lorenzo."

"That misunderstanding from years ago. Don't you owe me an explanation?"

His brow knotted, and a flash of panic crossed his eyes. Two fingers drifted to the wedding band he never removed, resting there a beat too long.

"What explanation? Your mother was gravely ill and the surgery failed. You knew that, didn't you?"

"Whatever happened back then, it's no reason for you to lay a hand on Bianca!"

"Adriana, apologize to her right now!"

Before I could say a word, Bianca had already draped herself over his shoulder. Her fingertips pressed to her collarbone, a beat too fast.

"Don't... don't be hard on Adriana. When Marco called off the betrothal, we were already the ones who wronged her. Let today be my way of making it up to her..."

"Since she hates me this much, let's just stop seeing each other from now on. I don't want to put you in a difficult spot."

My nails dug hard into my palms, and blood slid down drop by drop.

Watching the two of them walk away in each other's arms, I knew we were finished.

I picked up the box again and went on lighting what was inside.

Five years of love turned to ash in that moment. The smoke curled up into the still air of the estate, and not one of the men posted along the walls turned to look.

It was a full hour before Lorenzo sent word to explain.

"Bianca holds the Gallo line's stake in the project. Moving against her is bad for the Family. Making you apologize today was just a stopgap, a show put on for her. Don't read too much into it."

"Once I've handled this, I'll come home tonight and make it up to you, all right? I said I'd give you a betrothal tribute. Don't be upset, okay?"

But I knew this performance wasn't put on for Bianca at all.

It was put on for me.

This devotion. He'd faked it for five years.

And now it was time for it to end.

I held the severance of our union and waited at home until the small hours.

Still he didn't come.

There was only the word spreading through the territory about the Don of the Moretti Family flying into a rage for the sake of a woman at the hospital.

Bianca had nothing more than a minor scrape, and he'd summoned the Family's every physician to examine her.

For that, he hadn't balked at laying down a fortune in laundered cash.

In the photographs that found their way to my phone, he held Bianca in his arms.

In his eyes was a tenderness, an intimacy, I had never once seen.

That night, the hospital blazed with light.

All to deal with one woman's minor scrape.

When dawn came, I called him.

He didn't speak first, busy giving instructions to his men about Family matters.

"Don Moretti, are you certain you want to alter the pact? If you do, the Family stands to lose a fortune funneling that tribute to the Gallos!"

"Won't you please reconsider?"

"No need. Change it. It's what I promised her. And on top of that, draw up another oath signing over half my stake and standing within the Family to Bianca."

Only after his man had gone did Lorenzo remember the call he'd picked up.

"Adriana? Sorry, I kept you waiting. I'll be home soon. Right, did you call about something?"

I looked down at the burned skin on my hands.

"It's nothing. You go ahead and see to the Family. I won't keep you."

"Okay. Be a good girl and wait at home for me. I'll be back soon."

I didn't keep waiting.

I signed my name to the renunciation of all claim.

Packed my bags and left the house.

I went to the hospital where my mother had been taken that night and pulled the record of the life signed away from her body.

The name at the bottom was mine.

Lorenzo had deliberately forged my hand.

I made a copy of it and had it sent to Lorenzo.

By my timing, it would reach him just as I boarded my flight into distant territory.

A day and a night, and I didn't go home.

He didn't go back either.

The moment I boarded the plane.

He finally sent a message.

"Adriana? I had my man drop the tribute off at home. Why won't you open the door?"

"Are you still angry?"

"Stop sulking. Be good. Your husband will be home soon."

He was lying to me again.

Half an hour earlier, a small-time hanger-on had run into him out with Bianca.

And was still quietly feeding word back, trailing them through the streets.

He was busy helping Bianca choose a gown for the night he would name her stake before the Commission.

I didn't reply again.

After word came through that my forged papers and clean name were ready, I deleted every one of his contacts.

And back in the territory, his man came rushing to him, the record in hand, his face ashen.

"This is bad, Don Moretti! Your wife found out the truth about what was done five years ago! I can't reach her!"