He Married Her for Duty and Lost Me Forever

On the day I was supposed to try on my blood-bound gown beside the man I had been promised to for seven years, I came to the atelier with my heart full of happiness. The boutique was one of the Family's quiet fronts, all silk and shuttered windows, and as I stepped through the door I happened to hear Dario speaking low with one of his men.

"You sealed the union with Lucia before the Family yesterday. At the table, witnessed. And now you're standing here bringing Caterina Russo to try on her gown. You don't worry what she'll do to you when she learns?"

There was a helpless look on Dario's face as he answered in a hoarse voice, "My brother took two bullets on the Carrara road. Lucia is carrying his blood. If I don't step up and take her as my wife, how will they survive inside this life?"

"I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to Caterina. Just keep your mouth shut. She must never know about this," he added.

My heart shattered as the world seemed to collapse around me. Then I turned quietly and made my way to the clinic to arrange the thing I would carry alone. If he could not give a complete bloodline to me and my child, there was no reason to keep the baby.

——

Their conversation had been like an icy dagger piercing through me, extinguishing every bit of joy I'd felt after the report the doctor had handed me that morning.

I had woken excited, slipped out to the clinic to collect the results before anyone in the territory was awake. I couldn't wait to tell him the news to his face here, in this room of white silk. Instead, he hit me with the cruelest truth.

If he was already bound to another woman before the Family, why hold a union with me at all?

I had no time to answer my own question before the atelier's designer came toward me, smiling bright. "Miss Russo, the gown Mr. Falcone commissioned for you has arrived. You can try it on now."

Her words jolted me and pulled me back to the room.

Dario had poured his heart and soul into this union. He had done more than anyone. The ring and the gown had both been drawn and overseen by his own hand, built entirely around what I loved. He had even had words cut into the inside of the band. It read, "Love one another, love without doubt."

I had suggested we hire someone to handle it all, hoping to lighten what he carried. He refused. "Doing it myself is how a man shows he means it," he had said. "I want you to look at these things and always think of me."

When the men of the Family heard, they all praised him. "You'll make a fine husband one day. Caterina, you're a fortunate woman to be promised to him."

Yet who could have imagined that his so-called devotion to me would curdle into something this bitter.

I steadied myself and walked toward the fitting room where the gown was displayed. That was when I saw a familiar figure. Lucia Marchetti.

When she heard the assistant guiding me, she turned and greeted me with a smile, her voice warm and friendly. "Caterina, you're finally here! Come and see how beautiful your gown is!"

Her manner was as easy and kind as ever, like a caring older sister.

Back when Dario's brother still drew breath, I had made the effort to befriend her, brought her small gifts, traded the little confidences women trade, building good ground with the woman I believed would be my sister inside the Family.

If I had not happened to hear what passed between Dario and his man, I would never have imagined she would become the uncrossable wall standing between me and him.

The memory of their voices played again in my mind. My gaze dropped of its own will to her still-flat stomach, and a wave of bitterness welled up inside me.

Whatever else was true, she had a harbor to shelter her. A seat secured. My child and I had no such protection.

With a dark face, I turned my attention to the lovely gown and said, "It really is beautiful. Do you want to try it on?"

The words had barely left my mouth when an incredulous voice cut in. "Caterina, what are you saying? This is your gown. How could you let another woman put it on?"

Dario crossed the room, his tone edged with anger, his eyes full of disapproval.

I stayed calm, my voice indifferent. "What's the harm? I heard Lucia never got to wear a gown when she married your brother. Letting her try it now might make up for that regret."