He wanted to use me to pave the way for Viviana, to smooth every wrinkle out of their future so that when she finally stepped into the Luciano household, not a single whisper of scandal would cling to her name.
Leaning against the marble pillar outside the private arbitration chamber, I met his gaze. Disappointment overshadowed my exhaustion. The corridor smelled of old stone and floor polish, and somewhere deeper inside the building a door closed with the muffled finality of a confessional screen sliding shut. Two of Don Luciano's soldiers stood at the far end of the hall, hands clasped in front of them, eyes forward, pretending they heard nothing while cataloguing every word.
"Tell me, what do you want me to do?"
Dante showed not a trace of gratitude. His eyes still brimmed with disgust, but his tone was disturbingly casual, the way a man sounds when he's rehearsed cruelty until it feels like reason. He rubbed the edge of his signet ring with his thumb, a slow rotation, and the gold caught the overhead light in a thin flash.
"It's simple. Go before my mother and the family and publicly admit you were unfaithful during our marriage. Take all the blame on yourself. Convince her that you were involved with another man and even had an abortion, which is why you haven't been able to give the family an heir all these years. Agree to walk away from the severance with nothing. No skim rights, no shell stakes, no safehouse deeds, no percentage of any front. That's it."
As he finished, my hand by my side clenched tight, fingernails digging deep into my palm. The pain was small and sharp and mine, the only thing in that corridor I could still control. I thought of every Sunday dinner I had sat through in the Luciano dining room, spine straight, wine untouched, smiling at Elena Luciano's barbed compliments while Dante texted Viviana under the tablecloth. Five years of that. Five years of silence that would have made any capo proud, and now he wanted me to open my mouth only to swallow poison for his sake.
"We've been through so much as a couple. Do you really have to be this ruthless?"
Dante spread his hands helplessly, palms up, the gesture almost priestly. The signet ring had gone still on his finger.
"I don't have a choice. If you don't do this, even if I sever the union, my family will never agree to let Viviana in. You know how my mother is. You know how the old neighborhood talks. She needs a reason to let you go that doesn't stain the family, and the only reason she'll accept is one that stains you instead."
People are inherently selfish, and love, or the lack of it, only makes it clearer.
For Viviana's sake, he was willing to trample me into the dirt, shamelessly demanding that I paid the price for their affair. He wanted me to carry the weight of his betrayal like luggage through the front door so the household wouldn't have to rearrange a single chair. The soldiers at the end of the hall shifted their weight, leather shoes scuffing stone. They had heard worse, I was sure. But they had never heard it asked so politely.
In the past, I would never have said no to Dante. If my unconditional compromise could make him happy, I would have followed his every word for a lifetime, the way a proper alliance bride was taught, the way Bellandi Bellandi had once counseled me with rosary beads threaded through her fingers: Keep the peace, keep your head down, keep the family whole. I had kept and kept and kept, and there was nothing left.
But this time, I didn't want to give in.
My thumb brushed the inside of my left wrist where my wedding bracelet used to sit, the cool absence of gold against bare skin. The motion was brief, instinctive, and when my hand went still, I had made my choice.
"Of all the conditions you proposed, I'll agree to only one: leaving with nothing."
Ten minutes later, we each tucked a freshly stamped severance certificate into our pockets. The arbitration clerk had not looked up once during the signing. He was used to the careful, quiet endings that families like the Lucianos arranged behind closed doors, away from the courts, away from the Feds, away from anyone who might ask questions that could not be answered without violating Omertà.
Five years of marriage, over just like that.
Dante gave me one last glance before looking away. "Even though you didn't fully cooperate, at least the result is good. Finally, the severance is done."
"Don't act all high and mighty. Just name your price. While I'm in a decent mood, I'm willing to give you something…"
I interrupted him just in time.
"If we're ending this, then let's end it cleanly. I won't take a single thing that belongs to the Luciano Family."
"Fine, as long as you don't regret it."
He turned and walked straight toward Viviana. She was waiting by the black sedan at the curb, a camel coat draped over her shoulders as if someone had placed it there for a photograph. She pressed a kiss on his cheek, and over his shoulder she threw me a look of smug triumph, the kind of look a woman gives when she believes winning a man is the same thing as winning. The tip of her tongue touched her upper canine for a split second, a flicker so fast it might have been imagined, and then the sweet, pitying smile returned.
Before leaving, Dante waved at me. "Bianca, from now on, let's just be strangers."
It was the first time he'd ever given me a genuine smile.
