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—"

I tugged at the corners of my mouth and looked at him, calm as still water.

"If a game is all it takes for you to kiss another woman in front of everyone, then what were these eight years to you?"

Luca frowned and tried to explain.

"Bianca, you know my history with Adriana. She left me for some Bellini cousin with a bigger name and a fatter inheritance. That's always been a sore spot. So when she showed up out of nowhere last night, I just... I wasn't over it."

My eyes burned as I cut him off.

"You weren't over it, so you kissed her, held her, draped your jacket over her shoulders? And me? Your actual woman was sitting in the corner, and you didn't even glance my way."

"I was afraid your brother would find out—"

"Enough."

I couldn't listen to another word. "It's always about my brother finding out. You've been hiding behind that excuse for eight years. Aren't you tired of it?"

Luca went quiet, his eyes dropping to the ground like a soldier caught breaking rank.

Every time he'd made that face before, I'd softened.

Not this time.

"Luca, we're done."

I turned and walked away.

He grabbed my wrist. "Bianca, can you really bring yourself to end this?"

"There's nothing left to hold on to."

When I got back to the compound, I dug out every single thing Luca had ever given me.

Necklaces, handbags, clothes, stuffed animals he'd won at some boardwalk carnival and smuggled into my room like contraband. All of it. Every tribute, every hush offering dressed up as devotion.

I shoved them all into a garbage bag and threw the whole thing in the dumpster behind the gatehouse where the soldiers smoked between shifts.

Then I pulled up his contact information.

If it was going to end, it was going to end completely.

For two straight weeks, I didn't see Luca once.

Some nights, glancing out the window without thinking, I'd spot him standing below the estate wall on the street side, waiting. Hands in his coat, breath fogging in the dark, just beyond the reach of the security lights.

I never responded. I just pulled the curtains shut.

Until the day I left the front office.

Luca was waiting downstairs outside the building.

He looked worse than before. Dark circles carved hollows beneath his eyes, and the rims were red as he stared at me. The silver lighter was in his hand, clicking open and shut, open and shut, the rhythm unsteady now.

"Bianca, why have you been avoiding me all this time?"

"I know I was wrong. If you want to go public, we'll go tell your brother right now. I'll stand in front of the whole table and name you—"

I pulled free of his grip. "It's too late."

I turned and left.

Luca stood rooted to the spot, his voice raw. "Too late? What does that mean..."

But no one was there to answer him anymore.

Over the next two weeks, Luca searched for me like a man losing his mind.

He even showed up at my brother's social club, fishing for any news about me.

Matteo didn't know we'd been together, but he could tell something was off.

None of that reached me, though. What I heard was that Luca and Adriana had gotten back together, spending more and more time side by side, going to the hospital together, shopping together. The Bellini princess on his arm again, just like the old days, as if I had never existed between them.

One evening Matteo came home to the estate, sat down on the leather couch in the den, and studied me for a long time.

"Bianca, what's going on between you and Luca?"

My expression didn't shift. "Nothing. Why?"

"He keeps coming to me, beating around the bush trying to ask about you."

Matteo fixed me with a scrutinizing look, brow furrowed. He dragged his thumb once over the bridge of his nose.

"One minute he's asking if you're seeing someone new. The next he wants to know if you've been in a good mood lately. When I ask him flat out if he's got feelings for you, he denies it."

I lowered my gaze. "Maybe he's just being friendly."

"Friendly, my ass."

Matteo scoffed. "That guy is my crew brother. He never once asked me about you before. All of a sudden he can't stop? Something's going on."

I was quiet for a moment, unsure what to say.

"Bianca, be straight with me. Are you and Luca hiding something from me?"

Matteo's eyes were dead serious. So serious I couldn't hold his gaze. The underboss in him had surfaced, the part that read lies for a living, and I felt it press against my chest like a hand.

"Matteo, stop overthinking this. There's nothing going on between me and Luca."

Matteo studied me for a long time before finally letting out a sigh.

"Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't push. But remember one thing: no matter what happens, I'm your brother. I will always be on your side."

"Besides, didn't you already agree to the betrothal with Lorenzo Valente?"

"The ceremony's set for next month in Taormina,Sicily, barring any surprises. Book your flight in the next few days and head out early. Treat yourself to some time at the villa first."

I nodded. "Okay. I've pretty much finished packing. I'll leave tomorrow."

"Lorenzo said he'd fly back tomorrow to pick me up."

The next evening, once Matteo confirmed I was already on my flight, he deliberately called Luca and invited him out to dinner.

Luca brought Adriana along.

Matteo looked at the two of them, amusement glinting in his eyes, and spoke up on purpose.

"My sister flew to Sicily. She's probably out of the country by now."

Luca's head snapped up, his face drained of color. The lighter went dead silent in his fist. He grabbed Matteo by the collar.

"What did you just say? Why is she going to Sicily?"