Chapter 2

Rocco knew exactly what it meant to walk out on me in front of the entire Family.

He knew every capo in that room would see it as a humiliation to me and an insult to the Valente name.

And still, not once had he thought about what he was leaving me to face.

That was how it had always been with Rocco.

Things went the way he wanted, and I was expected to absorb whatever damage followed.

Our marriage had been arranged for years. The Falcones and the Valentes had already treated it as inevitable, and Rocco had grown so certain of me that he seemed to believe no matter how far he went, I would eventually give in.

Usually, I would have.

Not because I was weak, but because I understood what it meant to protect a man's standing in front of his own ranks.

But this time, he had put the ring meant for me on another woman's finger.

And suddenly, I understood something.

Once something had been tainted badly enough, I no longer wanted it back.

I remembered the gown I'd commissioned before returning to the city. It should have been finished by now.

So I went alone to the private atelier hidden behind one of the Family's legitimate businesses.

The moment I stepped into the courtyard, I stopped.

Rocco was there.

And in his hands was my gown.

He was holding it against Gemma Russo, adjusting the fabric at her waist to see how it would fall on her.

For a moment, I couldn't move.

Rocco had designed that gown himself.

It was supposed to be mine.

Before I'd returned to the city, he'd even sent me the original sketches, telling me he wanted me to wear it when he formally presented me beside him before Don Vittorio and the rest of the Falcone Family.

I could still remember the way he'd smiled when he spoke about it.

"When Don Vittorio sees you standing beside me, he'll finally stop asking when I'm going to make you a Falcone."

Then he'd touched the sketch with his fingertips.

"I designed this myself, Adriana. No other woman will ever wear it."

But now Gemma was holding that same gown against her body.

I stood at the edge of the courtyard, suddenly unsure whether there was any point in going farther.

A sound must have given me away.

Rocco looked up.

The moment he saw me, his expression changed. He handed the gown away and came toward me quickly.

"Adriana."

He stopped in front of me.

"I didn't mean to leave you alone back there. I knew you could handle it. You've dealt with men twice as dangerous as anyone in that room. A little gossip was never going to break you."

I said nothing.

Instead, I looked past him at Gemma.

"I'm glad Miss Russo is all right."

Rocco seemed caught off guard by my calmness.

He tugged once at his collar before continuing.

"You've been on your own most of your life, Adriana. You're stronger than anyone I know. Gemma isn't like you. When she disappeared like that, I was afraid she'd do something reckless."

His voice softened.

"You know how much I love you. I'd take a bullet for you without thinking twice."

He reached for my hand.

"So forgive me this once."

I pulled my hand away.

"No."

One word.

Rocco froze.

Apparently, growing up without parents had become another reason I was expected to need less.

Less protection.

Less consideration.

Less love.

My gaze moved to the gown still clutched in Gemma's hands.

"You told me you designed that for the woman you loved."

Rocco followed my gaze.

"If you're giving even that to her, Rocco, then tell me something."

I looked back at him.

"What exactly have you kept for me?"

His eyes shifted away.

"Adriana, don't make this into something it isn't."

His voice came faster now.

"You're the woman I'm going to marry. That has never changed. Gemma stayed beside me for three years while you were overseas. She went through hell because of me. I just wanted to give her something."

Something.

First my ring.

Now my gown.

I wondered how many pieces of me he intended to give her before he finally decided the debt had been paid.

I didn't want to look at him anymore.

I turned to the atelier manager.

"She has already tried on the gown. I don't want it."

The manager hesitated. "Miss Valente..."

"Keep the deposit and charge whatever cancellation fee is required. Send the final invoice to the Valente office."

Rocco's brows drew together.

"Adriana, it's just a dress."

I looked at him once.

"Then you shouldn't mind me leaving it behind."

I turned and walked toward the gate.

My nails dug into my palms as I went, the pain sharp enough to keep my steps steady.

Then Gemma's voice came from behind me.

"Miss Valente."

I stopped.

Her voice trembled.

"Are you angry with Don Rocco because of me?"

I slowly turned around.

Gemma stood beside him, eyes already wet.

"This is my fault. I knew people would talk once you came home. I thought if I left quietly, everything could go back to the way it was supposed to be."

She lowered her eyes.

"I never imagined Don Rocco would leave the ceremony to come after me."

Every word sounded like an apology.

Yet every word reminded me that Rocco had chosen her.

"If you're angry, please blame me. Don't punish Don Rocco for what happened."

Rocco's expression softened immediately.

He stepped closer and drew Gemma into his arms.

For the briefest moment, I saw the tension disappear from her face.

Then she lowered her head against his chest, and the tears came again.

Rocco stroked her back.

"This wasn't your fault."

After comforting her, he looked at me.

This time, there was disappointment in his eyes.

"Adriana, you've never cared what people say about you. Gemma isn't like that. For three years she's had to listen to people whisper about what she is to me."

His jaw tightened.

"She has already taken enough because of us. How can you still blame her for what I chose to do?"

I stared at him.

For several seconds, I genuinely couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Then I turned fully toward them.

"Rocco, since I walked into this courtyard, tell me one thing."

My voice was quiet.

"What exactly have I blamed Gemma for?"

He went still.

"Did I insult her?"

Silence.

"Did I accuse her of stealing my ring?"

His expression shifted.

"Did I demand she take off my gown?"

Still nothing.

I swallowed against the tightness in my throat.

"You keep telling me I'm strong because I grew up without parents. You keep telling me I don't care what people think, so I should be able to endure whatever humiliation you put in front of me."

My voice finally trembled.

"But being able to survive something doesn't mean you have the right to keep hurting me."

Rocco's face changed.

I looked from him to the woman still tucked safely inside his arms.

"I haven't blamed Gemma once."

My fingers tightened at my sides.

"So don't take the guilt for what you've done and put it on me just because I'm the easier woman to hurt."

The instant my voice broke, panic flashed across Rocco's face.