Chapter 5

His voice came down the line low and even, carrying the weight of a man who ordered the world from behind it.

"Bianca, it's only a wedding gown. Let it go. I'm still on foreign soil, tesoro. I've sent someone to your door with something. I hope it eases the wound a little."

No sooner had I stepped back into the house than a soldier in a tailored suit appeared at the door, grave as a priest, and placed a lacquered box into my hands.

Inside lay a full set of emeralds and pearls, cold and green as old money.

"These are the heirlooms of the Marchetti bloodline," the man said, "handed down through generations to the matriarch of the Family. Don Marchetti asks that you accept them, Miss Rossi."

I took the box carefully, and a wave of warmth flooded my heart.

Lorenzo truly honored me as the woman who would carry his name, and for the first time I felt a glimmer of hope for the future of this blood-bound union.

Just as I stepped away to answer a call about some tangled matter of the family's business, I came back to find the emerald set gone.

I searched the entire room, but there was no trace of it. The doors and windows showed no sign of being forced.

Just as I reached for the phone to raise the alarm, I saw Adriana's post appear among the Families' whispers.

"Couldn't find a ring worthy of me, and instead he prepared heirloom jewels. So this is what it feels like to marry for love."

In the photo Adriana wore the earrings, the necklace, the bracelets. Weren't those the very Marchetti emeralds Lorenzo had given me?

I pulled up the room's surveillance and watched. After I'd left, Marco and Adriana had come in.

"Marco, is this the surprise you had waiting for me? It's beautiful."

Adriana's eyes went straight to the emeralds I'd left on the bedside table.

Marco hesitated, his face uneasy as he stammered. "Uh... I'm glad you like them..."

My heart was in turmoil. I couldn't think another moment. I went straight to Marco's house.

When I arrived, Adriana was parading the set in front of Marco's relatives.

"This is Marco's family heirloom," she said, smug as a cat in cream. "He's already decided I'll be the daughter married into the Bellandi name."

"The fire in these stones, Madonna. Marco really does treat you well."

My blood boiled. I crossed the room and pointed at the two of them.

"Thief. Who gave you leave to take my emeralds? Give them back."

Adriana looked at me and sneered.

"Bianca, have you no dignity left at all? This set is the Bellandi family heirloom. Since when did it become your private property? You've already taken my ring and my gown, and now you'd steal the Bellandi bloodline's treasures too? How shameless can one woman be?"

I looked at Marco, standing beside her with guilt written across his face.

"Are you sure these are your family's heirlooms? Shall I bring in the Feds right now to settle it?"

Marco, cornered by the words, laughed a half-beat too loud and wiped his palm down his trouser leg.

"Enough! Even if they aren't ours, you stole Adriana's ring and her gown, didn't you? You should be begging her forgiveness. If it makes you happy, once Adriana tires of them, maybe I'll let you wear them a few days."

My blood boiled again. I had never in my life met such shameless creatures, the pair of them.

Not willing to waste another breath, I drew out my phone to call the Feds.

Adriana's eyes flickered sideways, and then she tore the jewels off herself.

"Bianca, stop tormenting us again and again. If you want them so badly, take them. Just leave us in peace. Marco doesn't love you. Stop hanging on him."

She pressed her fingertips to her collarbone as though wounded, playing the injured innocent while I stood there cast as the shameless, clinging one.

Adriana held the set out toward me, then suddenly let go, and the whole thing crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces.

My head rang, and for a moment it felt as if the blood in my body had frozen.

Adriana only smiled faintly. "Oh, why didn't you catch it, Bianca? Such a shame. Fine emeralds like those..."

Marco looked down at me from above, his voice thick with disdain. "Bianca, stop humiliating yourself. Take your junk and get out of my house."

I looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, my heart aching beyond words.

"Marco, I will never forgive you as long as I live."

He sneered. "So what if you don't? Don't come crawling back to my door in a few days like a beaten dog, begging me to take you in again. I'm warning you, stay away from my wedding. It's five days off. Behave yourself, and maybe I'll feel generous enough to look in on you now and again."

"There's no need. You'd best never come near me again."

With that I turned and walked out of his house, and I put the place I'd shared with him up for sale.

The bloodline's sacred tokens had been destroyed, and I couldn't shake the guilt of it.

Lorenzo went on comforting me through the phone.

"They were only objects, cara. Once I gave them to you, they were yours to do with as you pleased. Now. Are you ready? I won't have my bride walking to the priest with her eyes swollen from crying."

Before I knew it the wedding day came, and I found myself, for no reason I could name, growing nervous.

No sooner had I finished my face than I ran into Marco again, in a dark suit, near the washroom.

"Bianca, you've a thick hide on you. I told you plainly not to come and ruin the wedding. Are you deaf? It seems that unless I teach you a lesson, you'll keep ignoring every word I say. Someone. Take her. Lock her up somewhere."

I fought against the hands that reached for me. "Marco, let go of me. I'm not here to ruin your wedding."

Marco sneered. "Bianca, even your lies you can't be bothered to dress up. If you weren't here to break up the ceremony, why are you dressed like this?"

"Let go of me. I've told you, my marriage is no concern of yours. The man I'm going to marry isn't you."

He pinched my chin between his fingers with contempt. "Who else would take you but me? Bianca, there's a limit to how far a woman can push an act. Go past it, and you only make people sick of you."

Just as he gave the order for his men to drag me off, a deep voice came from behind him, low and unhurried, the kind of voice a room goes quiet for.

"Signor Bellandi. Where exactly do you intend to take my bride?"