"Alright, just put up with it for my sake."

"After the banquet, I'll take you to see the sunset over the Hudson River, how about that?"

Before he could finish, a woman in a haute couture gown strode over. Before I could see her face clearly, Nico took a step forward, positioning himself between me and the newcomer.

"Nico, your father wants you inside. He says there are important family matters to discuss."

"What is it? I have to leave soon for something else."

The woman didn't press the issue.

"It's about the engagement..."

Nico coughed dryly, cutting her off, then turned to me with a troubled look.

"Genevieve, my Papa probably needs me for some business. Why don't I have the driver take you home first?"

"As soon as I'm done here, I'll come back and take you to see the sunset!"

Without waiting for my reply, he turned and left with the woman. Watching them walk away, side by side, it hit me: the crests pinned to their chests were identical.

Suddenly, the woman glanced back over her shoulder and raised her wine glass to me in a triumphant toast.

Of course. Since Nico had already decided to discard me, why would he risk upsetting his precious Bianca for my sake?

If Nico had only stood firm, insisted it had to be me, I would have revealed my identity and swept every obstacle from his path. But with every action, he pushed me further and further away.

Back at the apartment we shared, Nico's assistant was waiting at the door.

"Mr. Rinaldi personally designed these invitations and needs to see a proof tonight!"

I remembered how he had locked himself in his study these past few days. Every time I asked, he said he was handling family business. The invitations he had so carefully designed were not for me, but for another woman.

And to think I had worried about him, waiting in the living room every evening just to give him a hug when he was tired. I even stayed up all night with him when he worked, just so he wouldn't be alone.

How could a heart change so fast? Two years ago, during a turf war, I’d come down with a nasty case of pneumonia. My fever wouldn't break. Ignoring the doctors, he’d put on a full protective suit and refused to leave the hallway outside my ICU room. The Nico from back then would have risked his life for me. So why could this Nico bear to make me his dirty little secret?

Just as the assistant left, my subordinate called me from Milan on a secure line.

"Miss, Mr. Nico Rinaldi just called headquarters. He specifically wants to purchase the limited-edition vintage Ferrari you had your eye on three years ago."

"He said that no matter the cost, he's determined to have it. He wants to make his new bride the most envied woman in the city."

I'd had that car on reserve for three years. For three years, I had endlessly discussed modification plans with the designer, even incorporating my late mother's design preferences.

My eyes stung, but my voice held steady.

"Since business has come to our door, there's no reason to refuse."

"If he wants it, fine. Sell it to him for double the black market price!"

Using that money to buy out the five years between us wasn't a bad deal.

Less than half an hour later, a text message from the bank arrived on my phone. Ever since I got together with Nico, he always said he wanted to prepare an "escape fund" for us, so we could leave the organization at any time. For this, he opened a bank account in my name and made regular deposits. At first, it was a hundred here and there, then thousands, and later tens of thousands. After he was taken back by the Rinaldi family, he even deposited the entire five million they gave him in one lump sum into that account.

Now, in a single transaction, he had drained the account that had taken five years to build.

"Genevieve, the family business has a bit of a cash flow problem. I'm borrowing this for now, I'll put it back later."

He had taken our money to buy Bianca a sports car.

I gathered all the trinkets and memories he’d given me over the years, ready to purge them in the cold waters of the Hudson.

Nico didn't come back all night. We never saw the promised sunset over the Hudson. The next morning, he rushed back, carrying my favorite Italian breakfast.

"I was tied up with a turf dispute last night, worked late. I was afraid I'd disturb you if I came back, so I just crashed at the office."

"I know I've been neglecting my darling Genevieve, so I got up extra early this morning to buy you your favorite croissants."

His face was a mask of guilt and panic. In the past, hearing him say this would have filled my heart with pain. Now, I didn't even lift my eyelids, continuing to flip through the art catalog in my hands.

When his charm offensive failed, he sidled up to me, trying a different tack.

"Today is the anniversary of the day we met. Why are you still looking at an art catalog?"

"You don't have to work so hard. Even if you quit your job at the gallery, I can support you."

He had suggested I quit my job more than once. Before, I was touched by his concern. Now, I understood his true motive. He wanted to clip my wings, to make me a docile canary in a gilded cage, entirely dependent on him.

"It was my fault for not being with you last night. I've cleared my entire schedule to spend the day with you."

I didn't expose his clumsy lie. I didn't respond, nor did I refuse.

Seeing that I remained silent, he suppressed his impatience.

"Genevieve, what's wrong?"

"Did you hear some rumor that's bothering you?"

I finally reacted.

"What, are you afraid of what I might have heard?"

Nico's flustered gaze darted around, unable to find a place to rest.

"Moving our little nest egg last night was just to deal with a cash flow issue."

"Genevieve, I love you. I've been working hard for our future."

"Alright, last night was my fault. Let me take you to the pier where we first met to clear your head."

After my mother passed away, I was still little and would always cry for my Mamma. My father would take me to the pier, telling me that if I spoke to the sea, my mother could hear me. So over the years, whenever I was in a bad mood, I would go to the pier. Nico knew this habit of mine.

But halfway there, his phone buzzed. After a brief call with a friend, he turned to me.

"Change of plans. There's an underground auction. Let's go see if anything catches your eye. My treat."

As soon as we stepped into the auction house, the air was thick with perfume. Bianca Capone materialized before us. Nico instinctively dropped my hand, shooting his friend a venomous glare. A setup.

Bianca swept forward, staking her claim by looping her arm through Nico's.

"Nico, who is this?"

"Genevieve Griffin."

Then he looked at me, a hint of awkwardness in his expression.

"This is Bianca Capone. Her father is a Capo in the Capone family."

"She grew up in this circle. You can ask her for some advice on the rules of survival in the mafia world."

With that one simple introduction, he made the difference in our importance crystal clear.

Bianca and I sat on either side of Nico. At first, Nico's body was still angled toward me, occasionally pouring me a glass of water and telling me about the auction items. But as Bianca held court, her confidence drawing him in, his attention drifted away from me.

It wasn't until I choked on my water that he snapped back to reality and gently patted my back.

From behind, I heard the malicious whispers of his underlings.

"A commoner has no place here. Look at her, choking on water."

"Probably just a stunt to get his attention. Pathetic."

"Nico is a Rinaldi now. Between Bianca and Genevieve, it's a no-brainer!"

Nico's lips were pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing to stop them. For the rest of the auction, he subtly shifted his chair closer to Bianca's side.

Just then, the auctioneer brought out a painting.

Bianca immediately sat up straight, her excitement palpable.

"I heard this is an original Monet, lost during the war. It's the only one in the world."

"Nico, the heir of the Griffin family is returning soon to formally take over the family business. I heard she loves collecting Impressionist paintings. How about we buy this as a welcome gift for Miss Griffin?"

"That way, she'll be sure to look favorably on my father, and maybe the Rinaldi family can get a piece of the action too."

I glanced at the painting on the stage.

"It's a fake."