

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

A week before Easter, Adrian gave me seven days off and had a ticket to Stockholm slipped into my bag. I thought he was finally learning how to care. Then I heard him talking to our son on the staircase. “Dad, are you really going to marry Aunt Bianca? What about Mom?” Noah was holding his model car, trying to sound brave. Adrian was quiet for a moment. “It’s only a legal marriage. Matteo is gone. Bianca and Sophia are exposed, and I can’t leave them that way. They need the DeLuca name for protection.” “Does Mom know?” “She can’t know.” His voice softened. “Keep this from her, Noah. On your birthday, I’ll buy you that Aston Martin model you want.” So the ticket was never a gift. It was a way to move me out of the picture. If he could put his family name on another woman, even for show, then I could take back the pride and ambition I had buried in this marriage. This time, when I left for the north, I would not come back.