Chapter 3

"All right."

Salvatore watched me rise and turn toward the door.

Something flickered behind his eyes.

Before I could take more than two steps, he crossed the room and caught my arm.

"There's a Family banquet this afternoon. Come with me."

I looked at him.

"No."

"It's Bianca's first time being presented to everyone as the woman beside me."

His grip tightened slightly.

"She doesn't know the people, the rules, or how these gatherings work. Stay with her. Make sure she doesn't embarrass herself."

I stared at him, thinking surely that was the end of it.

It wasn't.

"And help her with the dress."

For a second, the sheer absurdity of it almost made me laugh.

He had taken my place and given it to another woman.

Now he wanted me to teach her how to stand in it.

But then I remembered how little time I had left.

There was no point fighting over something I would soon leave behind.

"Fine."

Before we left, Bianca complained that she had nothing suitable to wear in front of the Family.

Then she walked straight into my dressing room.

Of all the dresses hanging there, she chose the most expensive one.

The gown Salvatore had given me three years ago.

Custom-made. One of a kind. Hand-finished in Milan, with a set of diamonds he'd bought to go with it.

I looked at Salvatore.

He didn't even hesitate.

"Let her wear it."

Bianca smiled.

"Thank you, Sal."

Then she turned to me.

"Adriana, would you mind helping me with the train? It's so long, and I'm afraid I'll trip."

She asked sweetly.

As though she hadn't just taken the dress from my closet.

As though she hadn't taken everything else with it.

At the banquet, Bianca walked into the room with her hand tucked through Salvatore's arm.

I followed several steps behind, carrying the train of the gown that had once been mine.

Conversations quieted as we passed.

Then the whispers began.

They followed me from table to table beneath the clink of crystal and the low murmur of conversation.

"Jesus. Salvatore really knows how to break a woman."

"Ten years beside him, and now she's carrying the new girl's dress?"

"New girl? Look around. She's the one on Salvatore's arm. Everyone knows what that means."

A low laugh followed.

"And Adriana?"

"What about her? No ring. No marriage. No name. She gave him ten years for nothing."

Another voice joined in.

"Ten years and this is where she ends up. I'd rather be dead."

I kept walking.

My fingers remained wrapped around Bianca's train.

I didn't look at anyone.

Not until I reached the powder room off the main hall and shut the door behind me.

The marble walls dulled the noise of the banquet.

For the first time all afternoon, I could breathe.

Then voices drifted in from the corridor outside.

Men.

One of them laughed.

"Sal, I've got to ask. Adriana stood beside you for ten years. You really gave Bianca her place just like that?"

Salvatore answered without hesitation.

"Bianca needed security."

"That's one hell of a way to give it."

"It's a title."

My hand stopped beneath the running water.

Salvatore laughed.

"Nothing more."

Another man lowered his voice.

"And if Adriana leaves?"

There was a brief silence.

My fingers tightened against the edge of the basin.

Then Salvatore laughed again.

Careless.

Certain.

"Adriana?"

The way he said my name made the men outside chuckle.

"Her whole world is me."

My chest tightened.

"Ten years, boys. Ten years she spent following me through hell. Where exactly is she going to go now?"

Someone muttered something I couldn't hear.

Salvatore continued.

"I know her better than she knows herself."

His voice carried easily through the door.

"I could throw her out tonight, and when I decide I want her back, she'll come."

A pause.

Then, almost lazily, he added, "She's like an old rag. Worn out, maybe. But familiar. You don't throw something away when you know it'll still be there whenever you reach for it."

The men laughed.

I couldn't hear anything after that.

I walked to the basin and turned on the faucet.

Cold water.

Again.

Again.

Again.

I splashed it over my face until my skin went numb.

Still, the tears kept coming.

I bit down hard on the side of my hand to keep myself from making a sound.

The faucet seemed deafening in the empty room.

Ten years.

Apparently that was all I was worth to him.

An old rag.

Something he could toss aside and pick up again whenever he pleased.

I stared at my reflection.

My eyes were red.

My face was pale.

But slowly, I stopped crying.

Salvatore.

This time, you bet wrong.

The woman you think will spend the rest of her life waiting for you won't be there when you finally turn around.

I shut off the faucet and walked out.

I had barely stepped into the corridor when something struck my face.

Hard.

My head snapped sideways.

For several seconds, I couldn't hear anything except the ringing in my ears.

I slowly raised a hand to my burning cheek.

Bianca stood in front of me.

Gone was the shy, fragile girl who had spent the afternoon clinging to Salvatore's arm.

She flexed the fingers of the hand she'd slapped me with.

Then she smiled.

"So you heard him."

I stared at her.

Bianca stepped closer.

"Sal gave me the place beside him, and you're still hanging around."

Her gaze moved over me with open disgust.

"Have you really got that little dignity?"

I said nothing.

Her smile sharpened.

"Ten years."

She almost laughed.

"You gave a man ten years of your life without a ring, without a name, without anything that made you his in the eyes of the Family."

She leaned toward me.

"And you still think you're better than me?"

My fingers curled.

Bianca's eyes flicked toward them.

Then back to my face.

"If being used is all you're good for, there are streets full of men who'd be happy to oblige."

Something inside me snapped.

I laughed.

It was quiet.

But Bianca's expression changed.

I took one step toward her.

She immediately stepped back.

Then, before I could say a word, her eyes darted past my shoulder toward the ballroom.

Her expression transformed.

The cruelty vanished.

Fear took its place.

Bianca grabbed the neckline of her gown with both hands.

Rip.

Silk tore beneath her fingers.

I froze.

She ripped it again, harder this time, tearing the bodice open at the seam.

Then she staggered backward and screamed.

"Adriana!"

The name tore through the banquet like a gunshot.

I heard chairs scrape against the floor.

Footsteps.

Then Salvatore's voice came from behind me.

"Adriana."

Low.

Cold.

Dangerous.

The entire hall seemed to go silent.

I turned.

Salvatore was already moving past me.

He caught Bianca before she could collapse and pulled her against his chest.

She immediately buried her face against him.

"Sal..."

Her body shook violently.

"I shouldn't have come."

Salvatore looked down at the torn gown.

Then at the red mark beginning to rise on Bianca's cheek.

His face changed.

Bianca clutched his shirt.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

She could barely get the words out between sobs.

"I'm the one who came between you. I'm the one who took what belonged to Miss Marchetti."

Her voice broke.

"I shouldn't have accepted any of it."

Before anyone could react, she raised her hand and slapped herself.

Once.

Then again.

Salvatore caught her wrist before she could do it a third time.

"Enough."

His voice shook with fury.

Bianca struggled weakly.

"No. She's right. I'm shameless. I'm disgusting. I ruined ten years between you."

"Who said that to you?"

Salvatore's voice dropped.

Bianca went still.

"Who?"

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"Please, Sal. Don't ask."

His jaw tightened.

Bianca's eyes lifted.

For only a second, they met mine.

Then she flinched violently and buried herself deeper in Salvatore's arms.

"No."

She shook her head again, as if terrified even to look at me.

"Please don't ask me."