The Ferraro Bride Who Walked Away From the Marchetti Throne

When I had a threatened miscarriage, I bled all over the seat of Dominic Marchetti's car.

He looked at the stain the way a made man looks at something that will cost him, with disgust, and put me out of the car onto the curb.

"You couldn't see your own body coming? How unlucky," he snapped.

That night, just after I got home, he tossed a scrap of lace at me like a coin to a beggar.

"Bianca stained these. Wash them."

I opened my phone and saw the post his childhood sweetheart had put up on her page for all the Family to admire.