Chapter 4

After saying that, he brought the car to a hard stop.

He left me on a dark, deserted stretch of road two kilometers from the estate and told me to walk back alone to "reflect on myself."

He drove home first, gently coaxed Bianca to sleep, then waited, certain I would come to the door and beg forgiveness.

We had been betrothed eight years, our bloodlines bound by pact. Every time we fought, no matter who had drawn first blood, I was always the one to bend. I would lower my head, apologize, and try to mend what was torn.

But this time, he sat alone in silence the whole night, waiting.

And I never knocked.

The next day, just after I finished my work, a message came from Dominic asking me to bring painkillers for Bianca. The place? A private room in one of the Family's better restaurants, the kind with quiet waiters and no witnesses.

I didn't want to go.

But I thought of what he had done years ago, when my own bloodline was brought low and diminished, how he had stayed at my side when standing near a Ferraro cost a man something. That debt, at least, had to be settled.

Then we would be even.

I carried the medicine to the private room, but before I pushed the door, I heard the playful voices inside.

"Bianca, you came back across the water for Dominic? So when's the union?"

With a soft laugh, Bianca answered sweetly,

"That depends on Dominic. I'm fine with whatever he decides."

Dominic said nothing. He did not deny it. He did not correct her.

I opened the door and saw him gently feeding her a bite from his own fork, the men around the table cheering and teasing them the way you tease a couple already promised.

The moment his eyes met mine, his face changed. Cold and sharp as a blade set on the table between two Families.

"Adriana, are you following me?!"

That one sentence made everything clear.

The message had not come from him. It had come from Bianca.

But what did it matter now?

Without a word, I dropped the box of painkillers onto the table.

"You messaged me about the medicine, didn't you? Don't tell me you've already forgotten."

Then I turned and walked out.

Dominic sat there, stunned for a breath.

Once, I would have gone in and made my presence felt, stood at his side and claimed what was mine before all of them.

But now I didn't argue. I didn't fight. And somehow that unsettled him more than any scene I could have made.

While I waited for the elevator, my patron called from the overseas Family.

"Adriana, your request has been granted. You can arrange your passage."

I nodded. "Understood. I'll arrange it now."

Just as I ended the call, I heard Dominic's voice behind me, confused and edged with suspicion.

"Arrange what?"

Without turning, I lied without effort.

"A sit-down dinner. He wants a private room reserved for a guest of the Family."

He said nothing, only stepped into the elevator beside me and offered to drive me back to the estate.

But the moment we reached the ground floor, his phone rang.

It was Bianca.

"Dominic, my stomach hurts... Can you come back and stay with me?"

Without a glance in my direction, he stepped away and rode the elevator up again, still speaking into the phone.

Back at the estate, I began to pack.

A short while later my phone rang. Dominic again, this time in a tone almost considerate.

"Weren't we supposed to sit for our betrothal portraits today? Why didn't you remind me?"

I had arranged everything for the union. Every detail, down to which Families would be seated where. He had not lifted a finger.

And now, because I hadn't reminded him, he sounded almost offended.

Folding my clothes, I answered without much thought,

"Well, since you're busy caring for Bianca, we can sit for the portraits after the honeymoon."

I didn't think it would set him off. It did.

"Adriana!" he shouted, furious. "Do you understand what my time is worth right now? How dare you decide such things without asking me?!"

"If you keep on like this, we'll call off the union entirely!"

He ended the call.

For a moment, my chest ached.

The boy who once stood beneath the fireworks at a Family feast, swearing he would make me the happiest woman alive, was gone.

I took the framed portraits of the two of us down from the shelves and, without hesitation, dropped every one of them into the trash.

Late in the night Dominic came home, holding up a drunken Bianca. He noticed at once that the house looked different, that things were missing.

Already in a foul temper, his irritation hardened into anger.

"Adriana, what kind of game are you playing now?"

I looked up from folding the last of my clothes and said, calm as still water,

"The house was getting cluttered. I'm only tidying up."