Their words grew cruder and cruder, each one more unbearable than the last, and no one at that table lifted a hand to stop it. In a room where a made man's wife was owed silence and respect, they'd forgotten I was owed anything at all.
I shut my eyes, unable to take it anymore.
Only Marco, drunk and swaying, kept his gaze fixed on me.
"Adriana, don't take it to heart. The two of them are just old associates catching up."
"Lorenzo's just hung up on old memories. Probably trying to make up for some regret. You're his wife, after all. It's just a drink. It won't affect the union between you."
But even as he said it, his brow was furrowed, his eyes locked nervously on Lorenzo. He cracked the knuckle of his thumb once, slow, the only sound he made that wasn't a lie to comfort me.
Anyone with half a brain could see the truth.
Lorenzo was genuinely into it this time.
I drowned my frustration one glass at a time. The wine was old and expensive and it tasted like nothing.
Even when I stumbled to the washroom to throw up, Lorenzo didn't spare me a single glance.
When I came back, Bianca was wrapped in Lorenzo's arms, their bodies pressed together, lips locked.
"Adriana's back!"
Someone yelped.
Lorenzo and Bianca broke apart instantly.
But his lips were smeared red, traces of her lipstick still clinging to them.
Lorenzo let go of Bianca in a hurry, blurting out an explanation on instinct. "We were just playing a game..."
"A game?"
I let out a cold laugh, snatched a glass off the table, and raised it high. The room went quiet the way a room does when it senses blood coming.
Marco's eyes went wide. "Adriana, don't do anything rash!"
Too late.
The glass shattered at Lorenzo's feet.
Shards flew in every direction. One piece lodged itself in Bianca's bare calf, just above her stiletto.
"Ow! Lorenzo, it hurts..."
Her laughter, quick and bright a moment ago, cut off sharp. Lorenzo's expression turned to ice.
"Adriana, have you lost your mind?"
I stared at him, unflinching. "Yeah. I have."
I lost my mind the day I believed you, Lorenzo.
Someone noticed the ring on my finger and let out a gasp.
"Adriana, you're bound to some other man? And you're here making a scene?"
"She actually thinks Lorenzo is her husband. That's hilarious."
"Does anyone know Adriana's husband? Call him up, get him down here."
"Let him see how his wife throws herself at her old flame at a sit-down of the old crowd..."
One of them even moved toward me, hands raised to shove me.
I smiled coldly and caught her wrist with pinpoint precision. The whole table felt me do it.
"My husband is dead."
"Would you like to meet him?"
"I'd be happy to send you underground to say hello."
The color drained from her face. She stumbled backward, shrinking away, and no one laughed now.
"They're right. You really are insane."
I slid the ring off my finger and looked at Lorenzo, a bitter laugh escaping my lips.
Before this gathering, he'd worn the matching band. The exact same one, the ring of our blood oath.
At some point, he'd taken it off.
I held his gaze. "Even now, you're going to stand there and say nothing?"
"I don't have time for this!"
Lorenzo cut me off, his voice sharp, his eyes darting anxiously to Bianca's bleeding leg.
"Bianca, I'm taking you to a doctor."
"I'm coming too!"
"Us too!"
Within minutes, the private room that had been buzzing with noise was reduced to scattered glasses and empty chairs. Everyone was gone.
Marco was the last to leave. He lingered at the door, worry etched across his face.
"Adriana, you've had too much to drink tonight. Go home and rest. Want one of my men to drive you?"
I pushed his hand away. "No."
I called a car of my own and had it take me to the private clinic Lorenzo always used, the one kept quiet for the Family. Sure enough, I spotted him the moment I walked in.
Attentive. Devoted. Hovering at her side like she was the only person in the world.
