Severed Vows A Mafia Love Story

A week before the ceremony, I found what I believed was a sweet surprise.

Gianluca's wedding band sat in its velvet box on the dresser of the Castellano estate, left carelessly beside his cufflinks and a half-empty glass of bourbon. I shouldn't have looked. But the box was open, the gold catching the low lamplight, and curiosity pulled my fingers toward it before reason could intervene.

Engraved on the inside of the band, in a delicate script: Addie.

The nickname he had always used for me.