"Lorenzo, I think I turned my ankle just now. It hurts so much~"

Without a word, Lorenzo lifted her into his arms like a bride and carried her straight up to the second-floor bedroom of the compound, never once glancing at me. The soldiers along the staircase stepped aside for him, eyes lowered, as though they had seen nothing.

The Don's mother gave me a pointed look across the long table, her voice dripping with contempt. The black rosary at her wrist clicked once, bead against bead.

"Can't lay an egg, and can't even keep hold of your own man. If Matteo hadn't married Gioia first, do you think my son would ever have looked twice at you? And you still have the nerve to sit at this table. Go upstairs. The sight of you kills my appetite."

She had never liked me. I'd always known that.

To her, I was the woman Matteo had thrown away, the one who'd latched onto her son and brought shame on the Falcone name before the whole Family.

And after I'd lost so many children, her disgust only deepened.

But she was Lorenzo's mother, the matriarch of the bloodline, and I'd believed it was my own fault that I couldn't carry a child, so I swallowed the guilt.

Besides, Lorenzo used to speak up for me here and there, so every time, I let it go.

But now Lorenzo was too busy doting on Gioia. Why would he ever think of me?

For a moment, I almost wanted to tell them the truth. In the end, I let it die. Omertà had taught me that some words, once spoken at this table, could never be taken back.

I'd already decided to leave. There was no point wasting my breath.

I climbed the stairs without a word, and noticed that Gioia's bedroom door hadn't been shut all the way.

Some impulse I couldn't name pulled me toward it.

And there was Gioia, sprawled across the bed with her clothes in disarray, Lorenzo pressing down over her.

"Lorenzo, you're still the one who treats me best. Matteo can't father children, and if Adriana had a baby, he wouldn't be able to take the seat of the Family. Who knows how much I'd suffer after that." Her hand rested low on her belly as she spoke, daring the room to argue with what grew there.

Lorenzo's breath came shallow, the flush of want rising at the corners of his eyes.

"Does Matteo treat you well? Has he ever mistreated you?"

"No. Ever since I got pregnant, he can't dote on me enough. He's terrified I'll tire myself out, washes my feet for me himself, and he's even gentler with me in bed."

A bitter look crossed Lorenzo's face.

"As long as he's good to you, as long as you're happy, then I have no regrets."

"Matteo, you've done so much for me. I couldn't marry you, so the least I can do is give myself to you. Tonight, I'm yours."

Whatever restraint Lorenzo had left snapped. His movements turned harder, and the two of them tangled together in a frenzy.

I'd never known that Lorenzo, the Don who ordered men into the ground without changing his expression, always so cold and self-controlled, had a side that could come undone like this.

Tears slid down my face as I stumbled back to my room.

All night, Lorenzo never came back.

The next morning, he looked at me, apologetic.

"Adriana, I meant to come keep you company last night, but Winslow held me up talking for hours. I just couldn't get away."

I didn't expose his lie. I turned and went to wait for him by the door of the compound.

A bucket of slop, thick with leftover scraps from the Family table, came crashing down over my head. Gioia appeared in front of me out of nowhere, the bucket still dangling from her hand.

"Adriana, the way Lorenzo lost himself on top of me, wasn't it something to see?" She smiled, taunting.

So she'd left that door open on purpose.

"Miscarrying doesn't feel good, does it? But you won't have to worry about that anymore. After all, you'll never be able to have a child again."

"And you still kept getting pregnant, one after another. Did you think you could fight me for the seat as the Family's first lady? Stop dreaming. For my sake, Lorenzo not only gave up his own claim to the throne, he got me pregnant himself. And those dead babies of yours? Every one of them became my strengthening rite." Her hand pressed flat and hard against her belly, the only crack in her smile.

My head shot up, my voice shaking.

"What did you say?"

"Why else do you think Lorenzo told you, every time you lost the child, that the baby was already buried and wouldn't let you see it? Because I told him eating that was good for my body, of course."

Despair, fury, and disbelief flooded my mind all at once. The world went very still around me, as if even the soldiers in the courtyard had stopped breathing.

So this was why Lorenzo never let me see my children?

For Gioia's sake, how could he have gone this far?!

Gioia smiled, savoring every second of it.

"Drop the wounded act. Who's there to blame? Blame yourself for being useless. With a mother as worthless as you, your babies were only ever good enough to nourish mine."

Something in me snapped. My hand shot up and swung straight for her face.

Crack.

The slap never landed. Lorenzo yanked Gioia behind him and took the blow himself, the sound flat against the marble of the Falcone compound's east hall.

He shoved me to the floor, his voice a snarl.

"Adriana, what the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Gioia wept, one hand sliding low and protective over her belly, the picture of injured innocence.

"Lorenzo, all I wanted was to comfort her, to tell her not to break her heart over the baby."

"But she actually envied me for carrying. She said I stole her place as the Family's first lady, and she tried to dump the slop water all over me. I pushed her back on instinct. I didn't mean to. I already apologized, and she still came at me, screaming that she'd make me lose the child." Her hand pressed harder against her stomach as she said it.

Before I could get a word out, Lorenzo looked down at me, his face dark.

"Adriana, how did I never see this side of you? When did you become such a vain, grasping woman?"

"You couldn't keep your babies because you weren't capable of it. So why take it out on Gioia? Why throw her kindness back in her face? Stop coveting things that were never yours. Apologize to Gioia. Now."

I wasn't capable of it. Heh...

I stared at his face, and all at once it was like looking at a stranger.

"Lorenzo, tell me. My babies, the ones who died. Where did you really send their bodies?"

Lorenzo frowned. His thumb moved along the inside seam of his cuff, slow, the way a tailor checks a hidden stitch.

"I had them buried, of course. I already told you that, didn't I?"

His acting was flawless. Truly. A man who fronted a couture house and laundered the syndicate's blood through silk could lie without a single thread out of place.

"You're right, Lorenzo. I shouldn't covet things that aren't mine. Don't worry. I'll never cross Gioia again."

With that, I turned and walked away without a moment's hesitation.

Lorenzo watched me go, and a sudden unease tightened in his chest. He started to call me back, but Gioia caught his arm.

"Lorenzo, the slop water splashed all over me. I feel sick. Will you take me to the Family physician? Please?"

He hesitated for two seconds. In the end, he didn't come after me.

Back in our wing of the compound, I dug out everything Lorenzo had given me over the years and threw it all into the fire bowl.

I'd just pulled out the blood union papers when my phone chimed. I opened the message and glanced at it.

"Adriana, I only said I felt a little sick, and Lorenzo got so worried he flew in the best physicians from every territory for me."

"Even the ones across the country. He chartered a plane just to bring them in. Aren't you so jealous?"

I didn't bother answering her. I watched the flames swallow the marriage pact and reduce it to ash.

I wasn't the least bit worried Lorenzo would see.

Because I knew he wasn't coming home tonight.

Sure enough, his call came.

"Adriana, Gioia's having some trouble with the pregnancy, and Matteo's away handling Family business. As her husband's blood, I have to look after her for him. Don't be upset."

I thought of the photo Gioia had just sent, her cheeks flushed and rosy as she ate the fruit Lorenzo had sliced for her himself. Not a trace of distress anywhere.

"Mm. Got it. The pregnancy comes first. Take good care of her."

Lorenzo paused, then softened his voice.

"Adriana, I didn't mean to snap at you today. I know losing the baby has you in a bad place."

"But Gioia is carrying a child, and that child is Falcone blood. You and I can't carry on the bloodline anymore. If something happens to Gioia, I'm afraid the old Don and my mother won't survive it."

I found it almost funny. Why bother with all these excuses?

"Just stay home and be good. Tomorrow's your birthday. I booked the finest suite the Family owns and put together a surprise for you. I'll come get you first thing in the morning."

By noon the next day, Lorenzo still hadn't come home to the compound.

I set the signed dissolution of the blood union on the table, then arranged for a recorded testimony to send itself, addressed to Lorenzo, when the hour came.

Once that was done, I picked up my luggage and slipped out toward the airport, past the soldier at the gate who only nodded, knowing better than to ask the Don's wife where she was going.

I'd barely arrived when Lorenzo called again.

"I'm sorry, Adriana. A few associates from out of town showed up at the couture house with no warning, wanting to go over the line for next season. I truly can't get away."

"I'll have my courier collect you and take you to the hotel. You've always wanted me to design a dress for you, haven't you? Well, I already have. Put it on later. You'll look stunning."

"Mm. Fine."

I hung up, my gaze drifting to two girls standing nearby.

They were huddled over a phone, scrolling through photos, sighing with envy.

"Dio, who knew the Don was this gorgeous and could cut maternity gowns this beautiful? It almost makes me want to get pregnant."

"You think being pregnant would even get you these? Every piece at today's showing was made by Don Falcone himself, just for his expecting wife. Each one's one of a kind, the most expensive fabrics the Family money can buy. There've got to be hundreds. The kid will be grown before she runs out of dresses. I'm so jealous."

"I heard the Don didn't want to overwhelm his wife, so the showing was closed to everyone outside the Family. Lucky thing your boyfriend runs a floor at the couture house and could pass us these inside photos. Otherwise we wouldn't even get to see the lovebirds."

On the screen, Gioia had her arm looped through Lorenzo's, drifting through the gowns made just for her, one hand resting low and easy on her belly, laughing with that loose, unbothered delight.

The Falcone house dressed half the city behind its laundered books, and Lorenzo's hand with a needle stood far above any tailor the Family had ever owned.

Once, I'd coaxed him too, begging him to design a single dress for me.

He always said he was busy. That he simply couldn't spare the time.

Yet for Gioia he'd designed hundreds.

Remembering how he'd just told me he'd made me one dress as a surprise, that little note of fishing for praise in his voice, I almost laughed at the bitter joke of it. My thumb found the thin gold band, the christening ring I'd never given away, and turned it once before I let my hand fall still.

Boarding time came. I switched off my phone and took my seat on a flight bound for a country where Omertà held no power.

Once Lorenzo finished helping Gioia pick out her gowns, he went to the hotel for the Family feast.

He pictured Adriana stepping in wearing that dress, lovely as an angel.

But Adriana never came. All that arrived was his courier, pale and frantic, threading through the soldiers at the door.

"Don Falcone, something's wrong. Your wife is gone."