The day Lorenzo got kidnapped by a rival family, I found out I was three months pregnant.

I took the million dollars his father offered, and I ran.

The next time we met, I looked him in the eye and told him I'd been a mole for the rival family the whole time.

He was chained up in a cellar, staring at me through the iron bars utterly despairing.

He said he'd kill me himself, and then grind my bones to dust.

Seven years later, when I saw him again, there was a beautiful woman on his arm. They were getting married.

And I was so far down I had to beg him for a loan.

He pulled out a thick stack of bills. Lit it on fire right in front of me.

He said he'd rather burn it than give it to some whore feeding another man.

He didn't know I was begging because my son was dying.

His son too.

Seven years after we ended, when I had no one left to turn to, I saw Lorenzo again.

It was the hundredth-anniversary reunion at our old high school. Nobody expected him to show up.

Someone laughed. "You were such a loner in high school. Can't believe you actually came."

"Oh, he's not here for the classmates." Another girl glanced at me, smirking behind her hand. "He's here for the ex."

The whole group started in.

I went stiff.

"Tch. As if she's worth it."

It was Lorenzo's voice, cold. I looked up.

Where I was shabby and broke, he was every inch a man with money.

Hair slicked back, not a strand out of place. Jaw shaved clean.

His mouth was a sharp line. His grey-brown eyes narrowed at me, and there was something violent moving underneath.

I was the only one who knew how soft those eyes used to be.

My chest tightened. I dropped my gaze before he could see anything in mine.

He was the only son of the Moretti family. The next Don. And somehow he'd fallen for me anyway.

To give me a normal life, he walked away from all of it. The family. The name. Everything he was born into.

He walked away from the throne laid right before him, just to hold my hand tight.

We lived in a tiny apartment. Nothing special. We were happy.

It was like salt. Plain on its own, but it made everything taste better.

When we were tangled up at the end of it, he liked to rest his head on my chest.

He used to say our hearts beat at the same speed when we were like that. He said I was his rib, his one and only, forever.

Then they took him. Locked him in a cellar.

His father, the old Don, offered me a million dollars to walk away.

I went to him. I told him I was a mole sent by the enemy family. I held up the check so he could see it.

He just stared at me, his face cut up by the iron bars.

"You're lying. Liana, you're lying."

"A million dollars? I'll earn it. I'll work and I'll give every cent to you—"

I bit down on my lip and didn't say a word.

I could taste rust. I swallowed the blood with everything else.

"Say something. Is someone forcing you? Just say something."

He smashed his forehead against the bars, over and over, until blood ran down his face.

I turned around. Bit my lip. Walked away.

Behind me, he was screaming.

He said he was going to kill me himself. He said he'd grind my bones to dust.

Lorenzo was still staring at me. There was cold fire in his eyes.

I dropped my head and looked at my shoes.

Someone grabbed both our hands and pulled them together, laughing.

"Liana used to get picked on in school, remember? Lorenzo, you were the first one in there swinging for her."

"Everyone said you two were made for each other. How did you ever break up?"

The whole group was laughing now, egging us on, telling us to give it another shot.

The Underboss next to Lorenzo stepped in and shut it down.

He glanced at me and sneered disdainfully, "The Don was crazy about her once. Too bad she only cares about money."

The room went dead quiet.

That word, Don, had a way of doing that. Everyone shut up.

The Underboss saw the room fall in line and nodded. Then he said:

"The Don came today to invite you all to his wedding."

"The bride's name is Sofia. If I may speak out of turn..."

He stopped. Looked right at me. "She's prettier than you. Smarter than you. And she's a much better fit to be the Don's wife."

Something hollowed out in my chest. But something else loosened, too.

Seven years. He'd finally found someone else to love.

She'd fill in the hole I left in him. She'd be gentle with him. She'd take care of him.

I cried for seven years. It took me that long to figure it out.

Lorenzo was never my flower. I just happened to walk past while he was in bloom.

He was okay now. That was enough.

I forced the tightness in my throat back down and made myself look at him. "Congratulations."

When I said it, Lorenzo's jaw locked. He was grinding his teeth.

I could hear them, a faint dry sound, like rain through leaves.

He made a small gesture and the Underboss handed him a lit cigar.

He took a long drag and blew the smoke straight into my face.

"Liana. I won't be inviting you."

"Traitors don't get to come to my wedding. And Sofia doesn't want to look at you."

The smoke was bitter and burned, like the smell of our dead past.

I bit my lip and smiled and nodded. "Okay. I won't come."

Everyone was looking at each other. The room was ice.

Nobody could believe it. Two people who'd been that in love, now standing there like enemies.

But people love a winner. And Lorenzo, the Don, was about to be the center of attention no matter what.

After a moment of awkward silence, they all crowded around him, asking about the bride.

Lorenzo smiled and pulled out his phone, showing off wedding photos of him and Sofia.

Somehow, I could feel his gaze drifting towards me out of the corner of his eye.

I was imagining it. How could that be possible?

I shook my head and made myself laugh at it.

I was the last person in the world Lorenzo wanted to see.

I looked at him one last time, and I left.

This time he didn't even notice me leaving.

On the way home, a friend sent me their wedding photo.

In it he had his arm tight around Sofia's waist. He looked happy.

She gave me a call and gossiped.

"Doesn't Sofia look kind of like you? Maybe seventy percent the same."

She lowered her voice like she was sharing state secrets. "I'm telling you. He couldn't get over you. So he went and found a copy."

My heart lurched. Then sank, slowly.

"No way," I said.

"You two were so good together. There's really no chance?"

I stopped walking and looked up at the sky.

It hung dark and gloomy, like it was holding something sad in.

After a long silence, I let out a long breath.

Just like a stuck tape starting to play again, it came out with faint rustling hisses.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I said. "It's done."

Lorenzo had been written out of my life.

He just didn't know that the day they took him, I'd found out I was pregnant.

It was his.

And our son was running out of time.