Each version of the wedding plan was incomparably luxurious, laid out like offerings, so that Adriana might choose her favorite.
For every feast day, every saint's day, every small occasion the calendar allowed, Dominic prepared exquisite and expensive tribute for Adriana. No matter how deep the Family's business ran, no matter how many men waited on his word, he crossed an ocean himself to place each gift in her hands.
And me? I only deserved the leftovers. I still remembered the night we sealed our blood-union. Dominic didn't give me a single flower. That evening, as the car slowed past a florist near the old quarter, I gazed at the colorful bouquets behind the glass, my heart filled with silent longing. Noticing my expectant eyes, he merely said in an indifferent tone, "Flowers are for little girls. You're not that childish, are you, Honey?"
Yet, for Adriana, he bought an entire estate across the sea and planted a vast garden filled with rare and exotic blooms, only because she loved them.
Looking at the photos of them kissing amid that sea of flowers, I suddenly laughed. Then I burst into tears. I pressed the stump of my missing pinky hard against my palm until the shaking stopped, took a deep breath, and photographed everything. The wedding plans. The tribute. The messages. The garden. And then I found it. The falsified Family pact. At the time, Dominic told me he didn't want me troubled with the formalities, so he arranged for the man who kept such records to come to our home and put his seal to the union.
Turns out, they were just actors. Hired mouths reading from a page. I tore the pact in half and let the pieces fall into the trash. I returned to the bed and stared at Dominic's sleeping face, so calm, so handsome. Once, this sight had filled my heart with warmth. Now it only made me sick. A night of silent sorrow left me sleepless.
The next morning, as always, Dominic had the Family's kitchen prepare an elaborate breakfast for me, plated the way one plates something precious. In the past I was always moved by such care, believing he truly cherished me. But after those messages, I understood it was all just an act, staged by a man who never wasted a gesture.
Every carefully planned, nourishing meal I ate, Adriana had already tasted first. The only difference? Hers came from Dominic's own hands. Thinking of it, a wave of nausea crashed over me. I barely made it to the sink before dry-heaving. Dominic crossed the room and reached me in an instant, his hands gently supporting me.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
A glimmer of something eager flashed in his eyes.
"Are you… carrying again?"
I caught the look on his face and inwardly sneered. Why are you so pleased? Are you only waiting to use this child to please your sweetheart once more?
I wiped my mouth and forced a weak smile. "No. You know my body's weak. After losing those babies, I can barely conceive anymore."
Dominic cupped my face, his voice laced with gentle reassurance. "Gemma, don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault. I don't hold it against you. Just focus on getting well, and I promise, one day we'll have a healthy child."
He smoothed my hair, his tone turning lighter. "Don't be sad, alright? Today is my mother's Feast Day. Sixty years, and half the Family is coming to honor her. We're expected, my love."
Then his voice shifted, just slightly. "But… since our union is still hidden, even my mother knows nothing of it. So if anyone asks who you are…"
I already knew what he meant to say. I cut him off with a faint smile. "I understand. I'll say I'm your courier."
His face settled into satisfaction. "I knew you'd understand, Honey."
When we arrived at the hotel, the first thing I saw was Adriana clinging to my mother-in-law's arm like a doted-on child. She wore a gown that cost more than most soldiers saw in a year, and she pressed two fingers to the old woman's wrist as if reading her pulse, saying playfully, "Zia, you have the strongest heart in this whole room. You'll live to be two hundred."
My mother-in-law beamed, delighted by the flattery. Smiling, she slid the jade bracelet from her own wrist and placed it into Adriana's hand.
"This came down through the Falcone line. It passes to the wife of the next Don."
Adriana turned to me, her smile layered with something buried underneath. Yet her words came out sweet and innocent. "Zia, this is far too precious. I couldn't possibly take it." Her smile held a half-second too long, and her fingers drifted to the pendant at her throat.
My mother-in-law laughed. "Oh, Dominic's brought his girl today. That's his future wife, isn't it? Perhaps she'll give the Family five grandsons one day. You should give it to her instead."
Her eyes finally found me. She looked me over, her gaze thick with open contempt as she took in my plain, understated dress.
"What girl? That's only Dominic's little courier. Family errands, nothing more."
Then her expression darkened into disgust. "Running loose, breeding without a sanctioned union, and not one but five stillborn? Hah. Truly, God has eyes."
