Chapter 2

I don't know how I made it back to the bedroom.

The nausea quickly turned into a wrenching pain so bad I didn't even have the strength to go out and buy medicine.

After what felt like an eternity, my phone buzzed.

It was Dante.

His voice was low and gentle.

"Luca returned the bracelet to me. You didn't want to keep it?"

I answered in a thread of a voice, and he caught the something wrong immediately.

"What happened?"

"Ate something bad."

Silence on the other end for a few minutes.

When Dante spoke again:

"Come downstairs in twenty minutes. There'll be medicine waiting for you. Once you're feeling better, we'll talk."

A storm of emotions churned inside me, and tears slid into my pillow.

Twenty minutes later, I went downstairs to get the medicine.

Luca was sitting in the living room.

He raised his hand. Between his fingers was a sticky note.

In a man's handwriting: Take care of yourself.

Luca's gaze was darker than I'd ever seen it.

"What is this?"

"Ava Lane, which man are you screwing? Medicine delivered right under my nose."

He threw the box into the trash.

"You can't go one minute without a man? Can't buy your own medicine?"

"It's just a box of medicine," I said, exhausted.

He could be endlessly attentive to Claire, coaxing her with candy just to get her to take a pill.

But someone else buying me one box of medicine was a crime.

In Luca's eyes, my explanation came across as dismissiveness.

He snatched the ashtray in a rage and hurled it at me.

"I'm putting together a wedding for you! I was planning to marry you next month! You don't deserve it!"

The ashtray struck my forehead and split the skin open.

I didn't dodge.

One, I had no strength left.

Two, it suddenly occurred to me that in these five years, Luca had prepared four weddings.

The first time, something went wrong with the venue. Everyone consoled me, said it was just bad luck.

The second time, the old Don Moretti passed away. The guests exchanged uneasy glances, and people at the main house were already calling me a jinx.

The third and fourth times were canceled for various other "accidents."

By the end, everyone could see the Moretti family's true stance.

I became the laughingstock—the girl who tried to marry into a mafia dynasty and failed.

When I accompanied Luca's friends to their homes, some asked with cruel amusement:

"Is it because you're no good in bed that the boss won't marry you?"

Some even cornered me in bathrooms and tried to put their hands on me.

So this wedding—how could it possibly happen?

Luca seemed caught off guard that I hadn't dodged. He paused.

His tone softened slightly.

"Why didn't you move? Come here, let me clean that up."

After every injury, Luca was the one who treated my wounds.

I used to think that was caring.

Later I realized he just didn't want it getting out and looking bad.

I pulled away from his outstretched hand and fished the medicine out of the trash.

Luca watched me, words catching in his throat.

Then, suddenly, a woman's voice came through his phone.

"Luca, stop arguing with her. We're waiting for you."

My breath hitched, and my hands trembled as I opened the medicine box.

"Your phone's been on a call this whole time?"

Luca frowned slightly.

"Yes."

So that was why he'd been downstairs in the middle of the night.

He'd been on his way out to see Claire.

Her urging voice came through again.

Luca glanced at me, hesitating.

In the end, he left.

I leaned against the wall for a while, then opened the fridge. Not a single bottle of water. It was full of Claire's favorite desserts and drinks.

I turned on the tap and choked the pills down with harsh, metallic tap water.

My throat felt like something was crawling down it. The nausea was unbearable.

I had no idea how many ears those humiliating details had reached.

But I didn't expect the first person to call and interrogate me to be my brother, Ryan.

"You're cheating? Do you know how many people are laughing at me right now?"

"Don't you forget—who rescued your brother from that fraud ring? Who's paying for Mom's treatment? You go apologize to Luca right now! Get on your knees if you have to!"

"Ryan, I didn't cheat. He's the one who wronged me."

"Be grateful, Ava! Don Luca has been more than good to our family. It's just one Claire..."

His voice stopped abruptly.

I was shaking all over, in disbelief.

"You've known about them all along, haven't you?"

I desperately wanted him to say no.

If he just said no, it would prove that at least one person in this world hadn't lied to me.

But my own brother—the one I'd depended on my entire life—said without a shred of concern:

"Now that you know, why aren't you trying harder to keep Luca happy?"

"Everyone out there is dragging your name through the mud. Besides Luca, who else would marry you? Making a scene about cheating now is just stupid!"

I never imagined a day would come when my own brother would blame me like this, as if everything was my fault.

"Listen to me, Ava. Luca just got me a job at the docks. Mom's medical bills went up again this month. Just bear with it."

I didn't know what else to say.

After a long silence, I canceled the train ticket I'd bought the night before.

In the beginning, it was Luca who brought me out of that remote little town.

He paid for my schooling, took care of my family, gave me a love I'd never known.

But later, all those kindnesses came with a price.

After he rescued my brother from the fraud ring, he lent me out for the first time.

The day he started covering my mother's staggering medical bills was the day he brought Claire home.

So in Luca's eyes, we were never equals.

My phone buzzed twice more.

I picked up. Luca's voice came through, cold and flat.

"You heard what your brother said? Stop making trouble."

I let out a bitter laugh.

"You gave my brother a job. What do I have to trade for that?"

Luca went quiet for a beat, his voice even flatter.

"Over the next seven days, you'll be accompanying a few more people home. This afternoon, start with Mason Cross—go meet his family. Don't embarrass me."

The color drained from my face.

This was my first time spending a Christmas holiday like this.