Seeing me standing there picking up my coat, my brother turned to look at me.

"Bianca, where are you going?"

"Just the restroom."

Luca visibly relaxed.

My brother didn't notice a thing. He just waved me off.

"Always stalling at the worst time. Hurry back, we're cutting the cake soon."

The room's attention had already drifted back to Luca and Adriana, the golden couple. I smiled and slipped out the door.

The moment I locked myself inside the restroom, I couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears spilled down my face.

By the time I'd pulled myself together and made it back to the private room:

"Bianca, how does it take you that long in the bathroom?"

"We were starting to think you fell in."

Matteo teased me with a grin and pushed a plate toward me.

"Eat up. Strawberry cake, your favorite. I saved you a piece."

I looked at the slice of cake, and my eyes stung all over again.

Strawberries and cream, arranged in a delicate little pattern.

Every year on my birthday, Luca would order strawberry cake from the same pasticceria on Mulberry Street and deliver it himself to the gate of the compound.

Then, when my brother wasn't around, he'd steal a kiss on my forehead.

He used to say, "Once I name you at the table, I'm ordering you the biggest strawberry cake in the whole city."

But today wasn't my birthday.

It was Luca's.

This cake had been ordered for him.

"Thanks, Matteo." I took the plate and settled back into my corner seat.

The girl next to me leaned over, buzzing with gossip.

"Bianca, you missed it. After you left, Luca and Adriana drank like three more toasts together, arms linked and everything. The way they were looking at each other? Gave me actual chills."

"You think they're really getting back together?"

I bit into the cake. The strawberry was sour.

"Maybe."

"Weren't you always saying you had a crush on Luca? How are you not jealous right now?"

I froze for a second, unsure how to answer that.

Eight years ago.

Everyone thought I was just a puppy trailing after Luca wherever he went.

Even though he'd agreed to be with me only two months into my pursuit.

But the affair had stayed hidden from the very start. No one in either Family ever knew.

That one comment steered the whole conversation toward me.

Someone spoke up. "Bianca, you're twenty-seven this year, right? That's not exactly young. How come you still don't have anyone?"

"I mean, your brother's the Moretti heir. You've got the same blood. There's no way you're short on men lining up."

"Just don't end up like Luca over here, perfectly good capo and still supposedly unattached, haha..."

Every pair of eyes in the room landed on me.

Including Adriana's. She pressed her tongue once against the inside of her cheek, watching me with a look that was just a little too thoughtful.

My fingers drifted to the hollow at my throat. I held them there for a breath, then let my hand drop.

I shook my head with a smile. "I'm not single."

Luca's head snapped up. His brow furrowed, and he shot me a look.

A warning.

Telling me not to say anything stupid.

On my way to the restroom earlier, I had already called my Hart's personal line and told him yes. I'd agreed to the alliance marriage.

He and the Valente patriarch had been arranging introductions for weeks now.

That was why I'd been pressing Luca so hard lately.

I'd wanted him to acknowledge me before the Family, but every answer I got was impatient.

"Just wait a little longer. The timing isn't right."

But I didn't want to wait anymore.

If waiting to the very end still wouldn't give me what I wanted, then it didn't matter who I married.

"Oh? You're not single?"

Someone glanced curiously at my brother, then back at me.

"Little Bianca, you're the youngest one here. Don't go pulling our legs now."

"I bet she's bluffing. If she really had someone, why not bring him along so we can check him out?"

I spoke up again. "I'm really not joking. I'm getting engaged next month."

Luca froze. He said he'd assumed I was just making excuses.

My brother chimed in with a grin.

"None of you knew? My little sister moves fast. And with a face like hers, what man wouldn't be wrapped around her finger?"

Luca stood there, stunned, draining one glass after another. The social club's back room was warm with cigar haze and the low murmur of men who understood that what was said at this table stayed at this table. But Luca wasn't hearing any of it. His silver lighter appeared in his hand, clicking open, clicking shut, the rhythm too fast.

He cut in abruptly.

"Stop making things up. Your sister's still single. Saying stuff like that will only hurt her reputation."

Then he dragged Matteo back to keep drinking.

I sat in the corner, bored, flipping through songs on my phone. The bass from the main floor pulsed faintly through the walls, and one of Matteo's soldiers stood near the door with his arms folded, eyes on nothing, seeing everything.

A while later, Luca suddenly left for the restroom. My phone buzzed. A text from him.

"Come out for a second."

I hesitated, then went.

The moment I reached the hallway outside the restroom, someone grabbed my arm hard and pulled me into a corner. The corridor was narrow, poorly lit, lined with framed photographs of men whose names you didn't say aloud.

Luca's eyes were rimmed red, fixed on me.

"Engaged? You really know how to get under my skin."

"This is just because I didn't kiss you earlier, isn't it? You don't have to be this jealous."

He reached up and gently smoothed my hair, the corner of his mouth lifting as he leaned in to kiss me. The lighter had vanished back into his pocket. His hand was steady now, certain, as though pulling me close in a dim hallway settled everything that the evening had broken.

Looking at the face I'd loved for eight years, all I could see was the image of him kissing Adriana, replaying over and over behind my eyes.

My stomach turned violently.

I stiffened and turned my head away.

"I'm not. I don't have the right to be jealous."

Eight years underground. That was what we'd been.

Nobody besides the two of us knew we were together. Not even Matteo, his blood-sworn ally, my own brother. Luca had never once told him. In a world where being named under a man's protection meant everything, I had no name at all. Every time we met felt like an affair. Secret phones, rented rooms far from Family territory, excuses layered over excuses until the truth was buried so deep neither of us could find it without digging.

I was sick of it. I'd tried again and again to go public. What girl doesn't want her boyfriend to claim her in front of the whole world? To be seated beside him at the table, acknowledged before the captains, spoken for?

But every hope fell through, and all that accumulated was disappointment.

"Bianca!"

The smile drained from Luca's face. "Are you avoiding me?"

"You've had too much to drink."

Just then, Adriana's voice carried over from nearby.

"Where's Luca? I just saw him right here."

The instant he heard her voice, Luca let go of my hand.

"Go back inside first."

Adriana had drunk too much. She was outside retching, crying out Luca's name between heaves. The sound carried through the corridor, raw and ugly, and a busboy near the service entrance looked away fast, knowing better than to witness a Bellini princess in that state.

He glanced over, expression flat, and turned to walk away.

"Luca, please don't leave me..."

Her sobbing voice stopped him in his tracks.

He exhaled softly. In the end, he caved. He stayed by her side, patting her back now and then.

"Let it out."

"You'll feel better once it's all up."

Then something seemed to occur to him. He scooped Adriana up and set her down on a nearby seat. "Wait here for me."

He jogged off and came back with a bottle in his hand.

"Here. Your favorite. Strawberry."

Adriana blinked, then broke into a teary smile.

"Eight years, and you still remember that I love strawberry."

So the one who loved strawberry had always been Adriana.

That was why he always bought strawberry cake. Even the scented sachets tucked inside his closet were strawberry.

My eyes burned. My fingers went to the hollow at my throat and pressed there, hard, as though I could hold the hurt inside my chest by force. I tore my gaze away and walked fast back toward the private room.

The party dragged on until one in the morning.

Adriana was slumped across the table, drunk, her fingers still clutching the hem of Luca's jacket. He didn't shake her off. Instead, he slipped his coat from his shoulders and draped it over hers.

And I, his actual girlfriend, sat in the corner watching him take care of another woman.

Nobody around them batted an eye.

"Luca's still so attentive with Adriana."

"Looks like something's brewing tonight, boys. Should we clear out?"

Luca lifted his head and glanced at me. Panic flickered in his eyes, along with something close to a plea.

He was begging me not to make a scene.

Not to expose him. Not here, in a room full of men who answered to my brother.

I lowered my gaze, drained the last sip from my glass, and stood.

"Matteo, I'm heading home."

Matteo frowned at me. "How much did you drink? Your face is bright red. Let me drive you."

"No need. I already called a car."

"It's too late for that. I'll have Luca take you. He barely drank tonight."

Luca looked up at the mention of his name, about to speak, but Adriana curled drowsily around his arm.

"Luca, don't go..."

The room erupted in low whistles and laughter again.

Matteo cleared his throat, visibly awkward. "Forget it. I'll take her myself. You guys keep going."

I followed my brother out of the private room. The hallway of the social club was dim, smelling of old wood and cigar smoke that never quite left the walls. He walked ahead of me, then stopped and turned around.

"Bianca. Something's off with you tonight."

I looked away. "Is it?"

"Yeah."

Matteo turned to face me fully, his eyes locked on mine. He dragged his thumb once over the bridge of his nose, slow and deliberate.

"When Luca kissed Adriana, you cried."

My chest seized. I shook my head quickly. "No, I didn't. Something just got in my eye."

"Cut the crap. I'm your brother. You can fool everyone else, but not me."

Matteo's brow creased, his tone turning serious.

"Do you have feelings for Luca?"

My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Feelings didn't begin to cover it.

We'd been together for eight years in secret, and he never once had the courage to acknowledge me before the Family.

"Bianca, I've warned you before. You can fall for any one of my crew. Anyone except Luca. He—"

"Matteo, stop guessing. I just drank too much and felt sick."

Matteo studied me for a long time, then let out a sigh.

"Fine. Get in. I'll take you home."

After I got back, I showered and lay in bed, staring at my phone for a long time. The screen was perfectly still. Not a single message.

Every other late night, Luca would text to ask if I'd gotten home safe.

Tonight, nothing.

He was busy taking care of Adriana. Why would he spare a thought for me?

Eight years at his side, and the moment his old flame walked back into Family society, every bit of it counted for nothing.

So why keep wasting my time?

My fingers drifted to the hollow at my throat, pressing against the bare skin where no pendant hung, where no name protected me. I held the touch there until the sting behind my eyes dulled to something colder. Then my hand dropped away.

I typed out a single line and hit send.

"Luca, let's break up."

The message went through. I powered off my phone, pulled the covers over my head, and forced myself to sleep.

The next morning, the second I turned my phone back on, it blew up.

Over a dozen missed calls from Luca. More than thirty messages.

The last one read: "I'm downstairs."

I pulled back the curtain. His black sedan was parked below my building, angled close to the entrance the way soldiers parked when they expected trouble.

He was leaning against the driver's side door, smoking. Even from above, I could see his lighter in his other hand, clicking open and shut, open and shut.

I hesitated, then went downstairs anyway.

Eight years deserved at least a proper ending.

The moment he saw me come out, Luca crushed the cigarette and crossed the distance in quick strides. The lighter vanished into his coat pocket.

"Bianca, you're finally willing to see me."

"Just hear me out. Last night, I was only—"

I cut him off.

"Luca, you don't need to explain."

"You got my message last night. We're done."

His head snapped up, shock written plain across his face.

"Bianca, is this because of last night? Or because I never acknowledged you before the Family?"

"I told you, last night was just a game. I was only trying to get back at Adriana—"