When Lucia had bound herself to Dario's murdered brother, it had been done in such haste that they only sealed the union before the Family and never held the blood-bound feast. There had been no banquet, no white dress, no witnesses raising their glasses.

Now, with Dario handing her the title of wife, I thought, why not help her fulfill the unspoken dream every bride of the life carries beneath her grief?

Lucia's expression softened when she heard my words. After all, what woman raised inside this world had not once dreamed of standing in the gown, of being looked at like something worth protecting?

Perhaps Dario also felt there was sense in what I'd said, because something shifted behind his eyes and he held his tongue.

Seeing him soften, I caught the hesitation flash across Lucia's face before she asked, tentative as a girl, "Can I really try it on?"

I nodded and gestured for the boutique staff to help her into the gown.

Dario had already dressed in the groom's suit, dark and tailored close, the kind of cut a Falcone wore when the whole territory was watching. When he saw Lucia moving toward the fitting room, he reached up and began loosening his tie as if to change out of it. I stopped him with a single word.

"Lucia is carrying a child. She's already uncomfortable as it is. What if something happens to her and you aren't here to hold her up?"

When he heard that, he went still and stood silently beside me to wait, though the unease in his eyes was vivid as a confession. A man like him did not show his hand often. He was showing it now, and he didn't even know it.

Noticing the change in him, I sneered.

Before long, Lucia emerged from the fitting room on the staff's arm. Her condition hadn't begun to show yet, and her frame was close enough to mine that the gown fit her like it had been cut for her body and no other.

Lucia could not hide the excitement on her face, though she tried to curb it, asking in a small voice, "Dario, how do I look? Is it nice?"

Her voice drew him out of whatever silence he'd sunk into. His gaze, which had rested on her too long, cleared, and he gave a low hum of approval.

Just then another of the staff came near and drew a sharp breath at the sight of her. "Madonna, the gown is stunning on you. The two of you are the most perfect bride and groom I have ever laid eyes on."

The moment the words left her mouth, every face in the room changed. The boutique went quiet in the particular way rooms go quiet in our world, when no one is sure yet who holds the knife.

Lucia threw an anxious glance at Dario, then pressed a hand to her belly a beat too quickly and forced a polite smile. "No, no, you've misunderstood..."

Before she could finish, I clapped my hands together and said it with all the warmth I could pour into a lie. "She's right. Lucia looks absolutely stunning. The dress might as well have been made for her."

How could I not let the whole room appreciate so beautiful a sight?

Hearing me, Dario turned and looked at me with disbelief written plain across his face. He knew me too well. He knew I had always been protective of what was mine, and there was nothing in this world more mine than that gown. Yet now I not only let another woman wear it, I praised her openly, in front of witnesses, where it could not be taken back.

He opened his mouth. "Caterina, you—"

I blinked, innocent as you please, and cut him off, holding his eyes. "Relax. I'm only saying. Anyway, I've just remembered there's something I have to see to. I'll leave the two of you to it."

Without waiting for an answer, I turned and walked straight for the boutique door.

Dario moved to follow me. Lucia's hand shot out and stopped him.

At the door I glanced back once. Dario was easing Lucia toward the fitting room, careful of her, his palm at the small of her back. His touch was gentle and his attention fixed entirely on her, as though no one else existed in his world. As though I had never stood in it at all.

In that moment something in me went still. Was it truly the law of the Family that drove him to take her, the sacred duty to absorb a dead brother's widow, the thing he'd called obligation? Or had he simply fallen for her?

I didn't have the answer. And I had no intention of dishonoring myself before the Family to go looking for one.

The next day I went to the hospital for the examination, as I'd arranged.

When the doctor asked who the child's father was, I answered lightly. "He's busy. He couldn't come."

That morning, when I woke, I had let myself consider telling him about the baby. After several calls that rang into silence, I gave it up.

By the time it was over, I was pale and weak, and I had to lean against the cold wall for support as I made my way out. Something in me had cracked, quietly, where no one could see it.

When I walked into the main lobby, I saw Dario. He was there with Lucia, bringing her in for a prenatal checkup.

When they saw me, they looked dumbfounded. A flicker of surprise crossed Dario's face as he asked, puzzled, "Are you sick? Why are you at the clinic alone?"

Before I could answer, Lucia stepped in. "Caterina, don't take your health lightly just because you're still young. No matter how much the Family keeps you running, you have to take care of yourself. Don't make Dario worry about you."

Her tone carried the warmth of concern, but beneath it sat a subtle distance I couldn't ignore. This was the doctor the Falcones trusted, the one who never wrote anything down and never spoke a word outside these walls. Of course she would bring Lucia here.

I pressed my lips together and answered with a hum. "I've already had my check-up. I just need my medication, then I can go. You two should go ahead with the prenatal exam."

Dario's eyes filled with concern as he started toward me, but Lucia tugged him back by the sleeve.

"Dario, it's almost our turn. Let's go in," she said, rubbing her belly with a wince. "I don't know if it's because I've been overthinking lately, but my stomach hasn't felt right. I'm worried it might affect the baby." Her hand pressed to her belly a moment too quickly.

She leaned on the word baby, and the worry in his eyes dissolved at once. Guilt took its place. "Caterina, you should head home first. I'll come find you after I finish the check-up with Lucia."

I remembered when his brother was still alive, how Dario always called her sister-in-law, the title spoken with the respect a man owed his blood. Now her name came off his tongue with the ease of something already his.

As I looked at the three of them standing together, I couldn't help but realize how much of an outsider I had become. The man who once swore his life on loving me no longer held me in his heart.

I recalled the times he had put me first, no matter what the Family demanded of him. A wave of bitterness welled up in my chest as I choked out, "Alright. You two go ahead."

On the drive home, I stared out the window at the familiar streets flashing past, the same blocks where everyone knew which doors belonged to which name. My mind replayed scenes from a time when we were never apart.

I had known Dario since we were young. Back then he sat beside me, a quiet, studious boy with his nose always in a book, while I was the loud, reckless one. Both of us were children of the life, though neither of us understood yet what that would cost.

My father was always away on the Family's business, and my mother feared I couldn't look after myself, so they kept me close to the school grounds, away from home.

I hated the food they served us, so I always badgered Dario to smuggle me something better from outside. He'd sigh as if I were the great trial of his existence, then always give in. It went on for three years.

After that, we naturally ended up at the same university.

Having known him so long, I couldn't help but lean on him in that unfamiliar place, drawing comfort and steadiness from him. I relied on him for everything, and he never seemed to tire of it.

My mother used to scold me. She said it wasn't right to lean on someone so heavily. I shrugged her words off and repeated them to Dario, half laughing.

He set down his pen and said, easy as anything, "Do you really think I'm some kind of pushover? Caterina, if I didn't want you, I wouldn't bother with you at all."

His feelings for me were never hidden. I had known from the very start. So I shamelessly basked in everything he gave.

When we finally became each other's, his devotion only grew bolder. With him beside me, I felt untouchable, as if nothing in this world, not even the men who came and went from my father's table, could ever reach me.

Knowing all he had done for me, my mother used to joke that the hardest thing I would ever face in life was a day's work.

But now I knew she was wrong. The hardest thing I would ever face wasn't work. It was that the man I loved had sealed his union with another woman before the Family, and I was the last one to know.

Tears blurred my vision as the memories ran on, and by the time I noticed, my face was already soaked.

The driver glanced at me in the mirror and passed back a tissue. "There's no hurdle you can't get over, signorina. Keep moving forward. Good fortune's waiting just up the road."

I took the tissue and thanked him through my sobbing.

After I paid the fare, I was about to call someone to unload all of it when I absently opened my phone. That was when I saw Lucia's latest post, put up just five minutes ago.

Lucia posted a picture of an ultrasound and one of Dario bent low over a medical report, his head close to hers. The caption read [Bambino, hurry and come out. Your Mommy and Daddy can't wait to see you!]

When I scrolled down the post, I noticed that the first one to comment was the Donna herself. She had written, [Nonna is very excited too! I can't wait to see the heir to the seat.]

The comment section was flooded with replies from the Falcone bloodline. It was evident from their words that they all knew about Dario's blood-bound union with Lucia. The whole Family had been let in on a secret that had been kept from me.

I thought back to the day I had gone to the Falcone estate, weeks ago, to kiss the Donna's ring and speak of the union. They had received me so warmly then, poured me the good vintage, called me daughter. Now it all felt like a sick joke played out under the old woman's portraits of the dead.

I could not help but wonder. Were they laughing behind their hands while I sat at their table laying out plans for a blood-bound union of my own? My promised husband was already sealed to another woman before the Family, and there I sat, blissfully arranging a wedding that meant nothing.

I raised my hand, wiped the tears from my eyes and went home.

Before our union date had even been set, the Falcones had already sent the customary gold and the bride-gold, the heavy chains and rings that bind a soldier's daughter to a bloodline. Once I got home, I packed every piece of tribute they had given me into a cardboard box. After that, I would sever all ties with the Falcone bloodline.

After what I had carried alone and let go of, my body was weak. I took a few days away from the work the Family kept me on, to rest. One afternoon, while I was half-asleep, I vaguely sensed someone moving close in the quiet apartment. As soon as I opened my eyes I saw a familiar face.

It was Dario. He raised his hand and touched mine. Realizing it was cold, he looked worried. "Caterina, are you sick? Let me take you to the doctor for a checkup, okay?"

If this had been before, I would've thrown myself into his arms to seek comfort and warmth from him. However now, I pulled my hand away from his, tucked it under the blanket and said, "It's just a minor cold. There's no need for any doctor."

Dario didn't notice my lack of warmth. He shook his head in exasperation, his thumb moving once along the inside of his ring without his knowing it. "If you were feeling unwell, why didn't you tell me? We're about to be bound before the Family, so why are you keeping things from me?"

When I heard the word "bound," it jolted me awake like a splash of cold water. Bound? Oh, right. He was already bound to someone else.

I glanced at the cardboard box in the corner and spoke softly. "That's right. Since we're being bound soon, you should take your things with you today."

Although he and I did not live here together, he would stay over for stretches at a time when the Family's business kept him in the territory, so there were quite a few of his belongings in my place. On the day I came back from letting go of what I had carried, I had packed all of his things.

Dario, oblivious to the shift in my tone, smiled warmly. "Alright. Besides, after the union, we'll be moving into the new house anyway."

I did not say anything.

That evening, he made me a comforting bowl of hot vegetable beef soup with boiled eggs, the way his grandmother's kitchen had taught him, before leaving with his belongings.

As he stepped out, I said quietly, "Don't come over again for the time being. I'm sick and don't want to risk infecting you. Stay home and focus on becoming the most handsome groom the Family has seen."

He gave me a resigned smile but agreed nonetheless.

In the following days, he didn't come, but he still texted me regularly. I replied with brief, perfunctory messages, each one shorter than the last.

Time flew by and soon, the day of the blood-bound union arrived.

I didn't put on the gown Dario had designed for me, nor did I go to stand on neutral ground before the Family to take hold of the future I had once dreamed of. Instead, I bought a high-speed train ticket to Levington State, far past the bloodline's daily reach.

Just before boarding, I received a call from the hotel staff who ran the front for the celebration. "Miss Russo, when will you be arriving?"

I forwarded Lucia's photo to them and replied, "This is the real bride. I was only helping her rehearse. Please find her, help her get dressed and do her makeup."

After the call, I slid the ring from my finger and turned it once between two fingers, watching the light move across it one last time. Then I set it down. I methodically blocked and deleted every single way to reach Dario. I removed the SIM card, tucked it into my bag, and let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. For the first time in weeks, I felt free. I whispered, "Dario, I wish you a memorable day."