The first time Lorenzo and I truly saw each other for who we were was five years into our blood-bound union.
He was furious. "Adriana, do you have to throw yourself at me every day? Do you even understand what a sacred union means?"
I blinked awake, realizing I'd fallen asleep in the bathtub from sheer exhaustion.
Before I could explain, he threw on his clothes, dragged my naked body outside into the courtyard and hissed, "If you love being naked that much, why not enjoy it out here?"
He ignored my pleading, ignored the freezing winter air off the estate walls, and even called the household soldiers to come and watch. It wasn't until I collapsed with a high fever that he finally let me be.
Half-conscious from the heat burning through me, I stumbled to find medicine. Only to hear heavy breathing coming from his room.
Peering through the crack of the door, I caught a glimpse of him tangled up in the sheets, with my widowed sister-in-law.
So this was his idea of a "sacred" union.
Barely able to stand, I staggered back to my room and called his mother, Donna. "Donna, remember how you once suggested letting Lorenzo carry on both lines? I'm ready to agree. But I have one condition."
——
Donna paused, clearly stunned, then lit up with excitement. "Adriana, are you serious? You're really willing to share Lorenzo? You're not just trying to comfort an old woman in the middle of the night, are you? Name your condition. I'll agree to anything."
I stared at the ceiling, silent tears slipping down my cheeks.
The first time she brought up that absurd idea, that Lorenzo should "honor both houses," I was so furious I shattered a teacup against the marble.
She wanted me to give up my husband so Serena, her widowed daughter-in-law, could stay inside the compound and "carry on the line"?
How could I ever agree to something like that?
But I could care less now. Now that the two of them are already sneaking around behind my back, what difference does it make whether I agree or not?
The man who once swore he loved me, who spoke so poetically about the two of us pursuing something sacred together...
He's tainted now.
How ironic. When he dragged me, completely naked, into the freezing courtyard to "punish" me, he had the nerve to say I was the one who ruined his ideal of love.
Everyone across the Family's territory saw us as the perfect couple, the golden alliance of two houses. Even I believed it. I thought that even without touch, what we had would stay beautiful. Pure.
That illusion got shattered, completely and irreversibly, the moment I heard those breathy moans rising from the guest room. I could still hear them now. Faint, but unmistakable, threading through the walls of a house built on omertà.
I let out a bitter laugh and said softly into the phone, "No, I'm not just saying this to humor you. I really agree. I only have one condition. Lorenzo needs to sign a pact."
Her excitement was almost shrill. "Yes, yes, of course. I knew you were a sensible girl, Adriana. First thing tomorrow, I'll speak to Lorenzo about it. I promise, it's only to help Serena bear a child. You two will still be the golden union that every house in the Cosa Nostra envies."
After hanging up the phone, I curled into a ball.
Even with the heat on full blast and wrapped in layers of blankets, I couldn't stop shaking. Not from the cold, but from the sound coming through the wall.
They didn't stop until nearly dawn. Every breathless moan, every creak of the bed, felt like a knife slowly carving into my chest.
Five years of marriage. Five years of a so-called sacred union. In the end, it was all just a cruel joke.
I first met Lorenzo in the university library. He was sitting by the window, sunlight spilling over him like gold. He was reading The Republic, completely absorbed. He looked so calm, so focused. It was love at first sight.
"You like Plato too?" I asked.
When Lorenzo looked up, his eyes were so bright they practically sparkled. I had no idea then that this simple question would become the chain around my neck for the next five years.
Before we were married, Lorenzo treated me with such respectful distance. I thought it was because he truly loved me, loved me enough to be gentle, patient, even reverent. I didn't yet know that a man born to run a Family learns young how to make a mask look like devotion.
Yet, after we said our vows before the whole famiglia, he refused to touch me.
When I asked why, confused and hurt, he held my face in his hands and said, with that soft look in his eyes, "Adriana, real love should transcend the flesh. We should aim for something higher. Something of the spirit."
