"The alliance was something my grandfather arranged before the old Don passed. I never gave my word to it."
"But I'm a son of the Moretti bloodline, and keeping peace with the Salvatores is my burden to carry."
Burden.
That single word cut like a knife, severing the last of my hope.
The moment I pushed open the heavy doors of the Moretti estate, I saw Lorenzo and Camilla Salvatore sitting together on the drawing room sofa.
There was a plate of cannoli on the low table between them, and he was gently dabbing the corner of her mouth with a linen napkin, their bodies nearly pressed together.
At the sound of the door, Lorenzo whipped his head around.
A flicker of something crossed his eyes, and his thumb rose briefly to the pale scar at his hairline before he mastered himself.
He shifted his body slightly away from Camilla.
"You're back?"
He set down the napkin, his tone as flat as if he were speaking to a stranger who'd wandered onto Family ground.
I nodded, but my gaze drifted to Camilla on its own.
A faint, elusive smile hung at the corner of her lips, half a beat too quick, and her eyes carried a trace of contempt.
"Camilla only came to collect a document for her Family. Don't read into it."
Lorenzo stood and strode toward the study, his retreating figure moving faster than a made man ever should.
Only Camilla and I were left beneath the tall windows of the drawing room.
"So you must be Serafina. Lorenzo's spoken of you." She picked up a cannolo and held it out to me. "Care to try?"
I was about to refuse when a deep scorn surfaced in Camilla's eyes.
"A gutter rat like you, born with no name and no Family, isn't fit to eat off my plate at all."
She suddenly turned the pastry upside down onto her own expensive coat.
Hearing the commotion, Lorenzo came back down the stairs and crossed straight to Camilla's side.
"What happened?"
Camilla spread her hands. "Maybe the sight of me here upset her."
I was about to explain, but anger was already blazing in Lorenzo's eyes.
"Serafina, I already told you."
"Camilla and I are bound only by an arrangement between the Families. Those rumors are things people whisper to make trouble between the bloodlines."
"Why do you have to act crazy like this?"
The words rose to my lips, and I forced them back down.
Camilla gave a faint smile, casually pulled off the coat, and let it fall to the floor. "After all, she's your woman. It's only natural she'd be jealous." Her fingers had tightened around the fabric before she released it, the knuckles going white for just an instant. "So the coat got dirty. It's no great matter."
Lorenzo stiffened for a moment, then turned to me with a cold face. "Serafina. Apologize."
"Then go wash the coat clean."
After a few seconds of silence, I bowed my head to Camilla and said I was sorry.
Seeing me lower my eyes and yield, Lorenzo's expression finally eased, and he said, "Go wash the coat."
As I bent to pick it up, Camilla waved her hand with the ease of a woman who'd never wanted for anything. "Never mind. I have plenty of coats. I can do without this one."
Lorenzo nodded. "All right. I'll take you to buy a new one. Consider it my apology on her behalf."
He didn't spare me a single glance, taking Camilla's hand and leaving.
I stood where I was, holding the coat Camilla had ruined, numb as a puppet.
I still remembered two years ago, on a cold February night, when I'd spent half a month's earnings on a fine wool coat for Lorenzo, and he'd taken it, delighted.
The next day he'd quietly returned it and come back with a secondhand icebox instead.
Afraid I'd be hurt, he'd pressed his face to my cheek and consoled me, saying that as long as he had something on his back it was enough, that money should be spent where it truly mattered.
Back then, his eyes had been full of me.
I carried the coat to the bathroom and washed it carefully clean, then went back to the bedroom to pack my things.
My papers hadn't come through yet, so I decided to go back and stay a few days at the rented rooms before I left the territory for good.
As I pushed open the estate's front door, a rush of hurried footsteps in leather shoes came from behind me.
"Serafina."
Lorenzo's voice carried a suppressed fury.
