"Isn't it?" I shot back without mercy. "Didn't you steal what was mine?"
Bianca stared at me in disbelief, her grip tightening around Salvatore's hand.
But Salvatore looked down and snapped at her, his voice low and barely restrained. "Adriana's right. Keep your mouth shut."
Bianca's expression soured for a flash, but she quickly recovered, winding herself around Salvatore's arm with practiced ease, her fingers picking idly at the seam of her sleeve. "I was just joking around!"
"Honey, running into her like this must be fate. Why don't we help Adriana out?" She nuzzled closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Come on, just let me help her. Please?"
Salvatore had no defense against her wheedling. He turned to me. "Adriana, Bianca's thought about you all these years. She says you were her role model. She means well."
When I said nothing, Bianca smiled, and the smile held a beat too long. "There's a gala coming up on the circuit. Rhythm. If you don't mind, I could get you a place on the program."
"And since I sit among the arbiters, I'd take good care of you!"
I couldn't help but let out a cold laugh.
So this was her idea of "helping" me. Dragging me under the lights of the Families' prestige circuit to make herself shine brighter by comparison.
What she didn't know was that the whole affair had been built by my husband. For me.
And that I was the undisclosed voice of The Maestro, the arbiter whose judgment moved every Family, a name they had not yet dared to reveal.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Matteo Greco easing the car to the curb, one hand resting loose at his side the way it always did before he had a reason to move.
I brushed the spots off my clothes where they'd touched me and said flatly, "No, thank you."
"And unless there's something else, let's not see each other again."
As I turned to leave, Bianca caught my arm, her voice laced with curiosity. "Adriana, where do you live? I'll have my husband drive you."
I shook my head and walked straight to Matteo's car.
Bianca watched me go, something calculating flickering behind her eyes. She held Salvatore back as he moved to follow. "Honey, I think Adriana's married."
"Look. Her husband came to collect her."
"He seems a bit older, but I'm sure he treats her well enough?"
For the first time, Salvatore pried her hand off his arm and crossed to the car in long, urgent strides. He seized the door before Matteo could close it. Matteo's eyes went flat, and he cracked one knuckle of his right hand against his palm, a single dry sound in the evening quiet. I lifted two fingers off my knee. He stilled.
Salvatore's voice was ice, but his eyes churned with something far more complicated. His thumb turned slowly against his wedding band. "Adriana Rizzo. This is your husband?"
"This is what you call 'doing fine'? Binding yourself to someone like him?"
