Luca POV
The champagne in my glass was tepid. It tasted like stale piss and sugar.
I was late. I was drunk. And I didn't care.
Sofia’s birthday gala was in full swing at the Genovese estate. Crystal chandeliers trembled overhead, vibrating under the heavy swell of the orchestra. Five hundred of the city's most dangerous people were milling about, pretending to be civilized.
I stood near the periphery, loosening my tie. It felt like a noose.
"Luca!"
Sofia appeared out of the crowd. She was wearing a dress that cost more than most people earned in a decade. It was pink. It was loud. It was everything Elena wasn't.
"You missed the opening speech," she pouted, latching onto my arm. Her grip was tight, possessive.
"I had work," I lied. I had been sitting in my car for an hour, staring at the steering wheel, unable to turn the ignition.
"Did you bring my gift?" she asked, her eyes scanning my empty hands.
"I forgot."
Her smile faltered. Just for a second. Then the mask slid back into place.
"It’s okay," she cooed, smoothing my lapel. "You being here is the best gift."
She dragged me toward the center of the room. Dante was there, holding a glass of scotch. Frank and Maria Russo were beaming, playing the role of proud parents to the hilt.
They looked relieved. Their "real" daughter was finally being paraded in front of the Commission.
Dante raised his glass. "To the birthday girl," he announced. "And to the future."
He winked at me. It was a signal. He wanted me to make a speech. He wanted me to announce something. A merger. A proposal.
Sofia looked up at me, her eyes wide and wet with expectation.
"I love you, Luca," she whispered, loud enough for the circle to hear. "You’ve been my rock."
The room went quiet. People were watching. Waiting.
I looked at her. I looked at the way she clung to me, desperate for validation.
Then I looked at the empty space where Elena usually stood. To my right. Just behind my shoulder. Ready to whisper a name I’d forgotten or hand me a drink before I knew I was thirsty.
The space was empty. The air felt cold.
I pulled my arm away from Sofia.
"I see you as a sister, Sofia," I said. My voice was flat. It carried over the music.
Sofia froze. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"I’m engaged to Elena," I continued, taking a sip of the warm champagne. "You know that."
Tears welled up in her eyes. Real tears this time? I couldn't tell. I didn't care.
"Elena is gone," Sofia cried, her voice cracking. "She abandoned us. She abandoned you!"
"She’s just angry," I said, swirling the liquid in my glass. "She has a temper. She’ll be back when she cools off."
Frank Russo stepped forward, his face red.
"That ungrateful girl is dead to us, Luca. Don't ruin Sofia’s night over a runaway stray."
I slammed my glass down on a passing waiter’s tray. The sound of breaking crystal silenced the orchestra.
"Watch your mouth, Frank," I warned. "She’s still my fiancée. And until I say otherwise, she is the only woman who matters in this room."
I turned my back on them. I walked toward the bar.
I needed something stronger than champagne to drown out the voice in my head that whispered I was lying.
Elena wasn't coming back. And for the first time in my life, I was terrified.
