After all, Adriana and her birth mother had lived under our roof for ten years. My parents were kind-hearted people, and they'd let them stay.
No one expected that kindness would breed such treachery.
Adriana had always believed it was my fault she'd lost her status as the Moretti Family's eldest daughter. That resentment had driven her to this. In our world, blood was everything. And she'd been told, at ten years old, that hers was the wrong kind. The hate had been growing ever since, quiet as a tumor, until it found a use.
Even after I'd caught them, they'd banked on the fact that the Morettis were one of the most powerful bloodlines in the city. They were certain I'd swallow my humiliation to protect the Family's reputation. Omertà worked both ways. You didn't air Family business, and you didn't let outsiders see the cracks. They were counting on that silence the way a man counts on a locked door.
While I turned all of this over in my mind, our group had already arrived at the door of the bridal suite in the east wing of the Falcone compound. The one Damian had sworn up and down he'd prepared just for me.
The wedding guests trailed behind us, craning their necks for a better look. Capos' wives. Associates. Connected men who'd flown in for the alliance ceremony. Every one of them a witness.
The door was kicked open. Inside, Damian scrambled off the bed in a state of undress, grabbing the suit jacket he'd tossed aside and throwing it over the woman beneath him.
His face darkened like a storm cloud. "What the hell are you doing? There's a limit to wedding-night pranks!"
My mother let out a cold laugh, strode forward, and ripped the jacket away from Adriana's half-hidden face.
"Wedding night? Open your eyes and take a good look. Which one of us is the bride?!"
Damian's hand trembled as he pointed at me, putting on a show of shock. "Adriana? What are you doing here?"
The moment the crowd got a clear look at Adriana's face, the room erupted.
"Isn't that the Moretti Family's false daughter? What is she doing in the Falcone heir's bed?"
My father's voice cut through the noise, dripping with contempt. The heavy signet ring on his right hand had stopped moving. "Apologies for the spectacle, everyone. The woman in that bed is the daughter of our former household retainer. We raised her in our home for over twenty years, and this is how she repays us. Stealing her sister's wedding out of sheer vanity and making a fool of herself for all to see."
Damian yanked the comforter up to cover Adriana's exposed body, his brow furrowed tight.
"Bianca! How long are you going to keep this up?!"
"You overslept and missed the ceremony. Adriana stepped in to save your Family's face."
"I had too much to drink and didn't realize it wasn't you. But what's done is done. The wedding night has already happened. No matter what, I have to take responsibility for Adriana now."
"You're both Moretti daughters anyway. It doesn't matter which one I marry. The arrangement between our Families won't be affected."
"I know you can't live without me. That's why you brought this whole crowd here, to force a switch."
"Don't worry. Even if I marry Adriana, I can guarantee that the Falcone succession will always belong to our children. Yours and mine."
"There. Satisfied?"
He smiled a fraction too early, before anyone in the room had agreed with a word he'd said.
My father's jaw clenched so hard the muscles in his cheek twitched. "Bianca is the Morettis' only daughter. You sleep with another woman on the night of your alliance marriage, and now you have the audacity to humiliate her like this?!"
My eyes stung. Tears pooled along my lower lashes, threatening to spill.
My mother pulled me into her arms, her hand trembling against my back. I could feel the rosary pressed tight inside her palm, the beads digging into my shoulder where she held me. My father stepped in front of us both, shielding us, and turned to me. "Bianca, don't you worry. Your father will make this right."
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Every pair of eyes fixed on the couple in the bed was filled with undisguised disdain. These were people who understood blood pacts. Who understood what it meant to dishonor one.
"Did I hear that correctly? The Morettis are one of the most respected Families in this city, and the Falcone heir wants their blood daughter to be his kept woman?"
"The true Moretti heiress is tall and striking. The false one is small and slight. How drunk would someone have to be to mix up his own bride?"
The mockery washed over Damian, and his frown deepened with displeasure. The look he gave me was the kind reserved for a hysterical woman throwing a tantrum over nothing.
"Bianca, this is a minor issue. I've already promised our children the succession. If you want to move into the Falcone estate later, I won't stop you."
"And yet you keep pushing it, dragging all these people here to watch the spectacle. You're being completely unreasonable!"
The sheer self-righteousness on his face was so absurd it startled a laugh out of me.
He'd trampled over me to stage a grand alliance ceremony with that fraud, and now he expected me to play the willing kept woman. He wanted my future children born in the shadows, illegitimate from their very first breath.
