On the day of my blood-bound union, my betrothed broadcast his pledge to my cousin before every boss at the table. The two of them slipped away together right there, in front of the whole famiglia, leaving me behind to wear the disgrace of the jilted bride.
Lost and unmoored, Lorenzo Falcone, the Boss of Bosses in Harbor City, stepped through the silenced room and went down on one knee before me.
"Adriana Valente, I knew it the moment I saw you across the floor at the Gala. Will you take my name?"
I declined, quietly and with respect, but he would not be turned aside. From that night on, he came for me like a man who had never once been refused. On my birthday he spent a fortune buying every screen and billboard in the territory, just to put his claim on me where the whole city could read it. Three years later, I finally said yes.
That day, I became the woman every wife in the territory envied, the one who must have saved a saint's life to be owed a man like him. But on the eve of our betrothal, I overheard him speaking with the men of his inner circle, and it shattered everything.
"You're out of your mind, spending that kind of money buying a tower for your first love. As a friend, I'll just remind you, she's already married to your bride's old betrothed."
"As long as she's happy. I'd do anything for Bianca. I'd put myself in the ground for her," Lorenzo answered, his voice heavy with sorrow. Longing lived in it too.
So all of it, the three years of pursuit, the patience, the public devotion, had been a front. He never wanted me at all. He only wanted to stay close to Bianca, to keep her happy by watching over her through me.
My heart broke into a thousand pieces. That night, I decided to disappear from this world.
——
"So make sure none of your people breathe a word to Adriana about me and Bianca," Lorenzo ordered, the certainty in his voice the kind no man at the table would test.
"Not one of them would dare let Bianca's name slip in front of Adriana," someone answered.
I froze in the doorway, gripping the thermos in both hands until my knuckles ached. Tomorrow was meant to be our betrothal feast, the night two bloodlines were bound in front of every boss in Harbor City. Three hours ago he had called, said the Family's business had him buried, told me to rest early. I had felt for him. So I made a bowl of soup and came to surprise him with something warm. The surprise I had carried in for him turned in my hands and cut me to the bone.
Everything I believed we had, the love, the happiness, all of it was nothing but an illusion Lorenzo had built for me.
The memories spooled through my mind like a cruel reel of film.
When he lit the city up with my name, he'd said, "Adriana, this is only the first move in winning you."
When he took me across the water and showed me the world, he'd said, "Adriana, I'll lay everything there is at your feet."
When he knelt at the seaside and asked me, he'd said, "I love you, Adriana. Marry me."
Now my vision blurred. I reached up to wipe my face and realized I had already started crying.
A message lit my phone.
It came from a silent partner referred to me by a senior man in the work, asking whether I would cross the water to handle his asset operation, far from the old territory. Before tonight I would have refused without a thought.
But now.
The voices inside the office stopped. A deathly silence fell over the room. I stood there, not knowing whether to go or stay, when a flustered woman stepped out.
It was Lorenzo's courier, Enzo's counterpart on the inside, the woman who handled his messages.
"Miss Valente. What a surprise. When did you arrive?" she asked, the nerves bleeding through her smile.
I forced one of my own and lifted the thermos. "Just now. I brought Lorenzo some soup."
She let out a breath of relief and opened the office door for me. When Lorenzo saw me he came across the room and took the thermos from my hands.
"It's cold out there. What if you catch a chill?" he chided, gentle as ever.
His courier passed him the remote and he turned up the heat, then fetched a blanket and laid it over my shoulders himself.
I curled into the corner of the couch, wrapped in warmth, and still the cold seeped into my bones, deep where no blanket could reach.
His men and his courier took their leave with polite smiles, and only now did I understand what those smiles had always meant.
Every time before, I had thought they were teasing him, the most feared boss in the territory, for being so humble and devoted to a woman.
Now I knew. They were laughing at me.
Lorenzo looked at me, the worry plain on his face.
"Are you cold?" he asked softly.
