Chapter 2

"Bianca, I only did this for Adriana. Lorenzo is cold, he's ruthless, and the war left him blind. I couldn't just stand by and watch her thrown into that fire. Binding myself to her was a temporary thing. Give it time, and I'll cut her loose."

He'd already rehearsed his story, the way an associate rehearses an alibi before a sit-down.

"Signor Bellandi, I have no interest in being a kept woman hidden from the Family. Get out."

From the moment he abandoned me before the whole assembly at that feast of alliance, we were already over.

Marco's face darkened. "Bianca, can you stop being so selfish? Adriana was worried you'd be heartbroken. She's the one who asked me to come keep you company. And this is how you repay her? If you had any sense, I could come to you Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays. Adriana and I are bound now, so I owe her the greater share of my time."

Something bitter rose in my chest. Eight years of love, and I'd been reduced to a woman hidden from the Family, scheduled like a debt to be paid off.

"Marco, we're finished!"

His face went dark, a faint heat behind his eyes. "Bianca, are you taking my kindness for granted? It's a scrap of paper before a priest, nothing more. Why are you making such a fuss? Before there was any paper, you let me into your bed for eight years all the same. Now you want to play the wounded innocent? If you hadn't begged me, saying you couldn't live without me, you think I'd still want you? At your age, still playing these hard-to-get games. How pathetic is that?"

I was shaking with rage.

He had been the one who pursued me back then, stubborn and relentless. The one who wept drunk against my shoulder and begged me to ease his pain.

Now he'd bound himself to Adriana, made me a joke whispered about by every capo's wife in the city, and still he stood there blaming me for being selfish and cold.

"Marco, we're done. From this day, you live your life and I'll live mine. We have nothing to do with each other."

Fury took him whole. He seized the bag of broken seashells and hurled it to the floor, shattering it apart.

"Bianca, you still think you'll bind yourself to someone else? In this world, every Family knows you were mine for eight years. You're used up. Who'd want an old spinster like you?"

In the tense silence, the bathroom door opened.

Adriana stepped out, wrapped in a bath towel, barefoot.

I stopped breathing.

At the alliance feast, Marco had answered a call and rushed off. In the days since, I'd watched the two of them parade their affection where all the Families could see.

Now I couldn't tell if it was pain, or bitterness, or fury that had its hand around my throat.

This house had been bought when Marco and I were still drowning in each other, each of us laying down half the money. He'd called it our sanctuary, a place where every wall would hold a happy memory.

"Bianca, don't blame Marco, he only wanted to help me. If you have to blame someone, blame me. I'm the one who doesn't belong here..."

She reached for my hand as she said it. Her fingertips drifted toward her collarbone as if the moment had wounded her, but her eyes flicked sideways first, measuring who might be watching.

I pulled my hand back on instinct, never even touching her, and still she cried out and dropped to the floor.

Before I could move, Marco's hand caught the side of my face and knocked me down.

The pain came sharp and immediate. The broken shells scattered across the floor bit deep into my palm, and blood welled up and began to drip, spattering the ground.

"Are you all right, Adriana?"

He turned and looked at me with disgust.

"If anything happens to her, I swear to God I won't let you walk away from it."

He gathered Adriana up and carried her down the stairs, rushing her to the hospital.

I struggled to my feet, looking around the house I'd lived in for eight years, and it had gone strange to me, like the home of a stranger.

On my bed the sheets lay tangled, a torn black stocking hung off the edge, and the floor was littered with used tissues. The air held a smell that turned my stomach.

I hurried out, tears running down my face beyond any power to stop them.

It was filthy. Even the house felt dirty now.

Too many shards of shell were driven into my palm to pull free. I had no choice but to flag down a cab and take myself to the hospital.