My best friend, Adriana Bellandi, murdered my mother the night before my wedding, ran her down in the dark and called it an accident. Instead of marking her for the vendetta, the man I was promised to stood before the families and flaunted their union like a trophy.
I brought Adriana before the Commission and walked into their sit-down to demand the blood owed for my mother. Instead of finding sympathy among them, I became the joke whispered behind every glass of wine.
My childhood friend, Lorenzo Gallo, knelt before me in front of all of them while I stood at my lowest, swearing he would be the stone I leaned on for the rest of my life. I said yes, and I placed the entire matter of the accident in his hands. I believed him when he told me Adriana had been buried in the joint for twenty years.
Still, in the third year of our union, I happened to overhear him speaking with his Consigliere behind a half-closed door. "Don Gallo, did you truly bind yourself to Francesca Marchetti only for that pardon? It was nothing but a road accident. Why carry it this far?"
"The only way I could swear the blood-family pardon in her name was to marry her. It was the only door that lifted the vendetta from Adriana. As long as she's safe abroad, content, that's enough. As for me, whatever comes of it doesn't matter."
The union I had believed was my salvation was a thing built coldly, brick by brick, in the dark. The pardon written under my name and Adriana's freedom were the only things he had ever wanted from me. It was me who should've walked away from the beginning.
——
Lorenzo stared at the images of Adriana's life overseas glowing on the office screen, smiling with something heavy and regretful in it. "Three years of watching her safe is enough, even if that peace never came from me. As for Francesca, I'll spend whatever's left of my life making it right with her. This matter is closed."
The Family's Consigliere was furious and powerless all at once. "Don Gallo, the famiglia has only just begun to stand on solid ground. How could you stake all of it on a blood matter like this? If the Corsini ever learn what you've done, it won't fall on you alone. Every front, every operation under the Gallo name pays the price. Adriana killed a woman with intent. Why bind yourself to her ruin? She doesn't even love you."
Lorenzo's expression turned cold, his voice cut to the bone. "Enough. I told you this is never spoken of again. I don't believe Adriana meant to kill anyone. It was an accident. I've already seen to Serafina Marchetti's burial myself. It's my way of giving the Marchettis their peace. As long as I could save her, I'd give anything. My own life, if it came to it."
The Consigliere pressed on, anxious now. "And the Don's wife? She's bound to learn of it sooner or later. If she ever goes looking for Adriana behind those walls, the whole thing comes apart in your hands. You used her name to lift the vendetta from the woman who killed her mother. How do you expect her to carry that?"
Lorenzo went still a moment, then drew a cigarette to his lips and lit it, the flame steady in his fingers. "Then I'll make certain she never learns of it. Three years now. Adriana's term should be ending soon. See to the arrangements, and remember, Francesca finds out nothing."
"Don Gallo, as your Consigliere I'm bound to remind you. Justice in our world always finds the man it's owed. What you've done leaves a mark. For a murderer's sake, you're cutting into someone far more innocent. If your wife ever uncovers it, you lose everything."
Tears rolled down my cheeks and dripped from my chin. My hands trembled so badly I could barely hold onto the lunchbox. Footsteps drew closer down the corridor and I slipped into the stairwell, pressing myself against the cold wall.
So my mother's death on that dark road had never been brought before anyone at all. Adriana wasn't behind any walls, wasn't paying for what she'd done the way Lorenzo had sworn. She was living free and easy beyond the reach of the Family, beyond the reach of me.
And all of it had been orchestrated by the husband I had loved with my whole heart. His patience, his deference, every soft compromise, all of it built to save the woman he truly loved.
For three years of marriage I had lived inside a web he'd spun with such care. I thought I was happy. I had been in hell the entire time. How ironic.
My fingers found my mother's thin gold ring and turned it once. Then, stumbling, I ran down the stairs and came to a stop at the doors of his Family's front, the daylight too bright, the world gone quiet all at once.
