Chapter 1

The poison took effect faster than I expected. The last thing I heard was the children stifling their sobs in the chapel.

My grandmother sat at the front, her back straight.

My mother, Anna Moretti, leaned against her, still clutching the cross my father had given her in his younger days.

Sofia Moretti, my oldest brother's wife, held her two children close. Teresa Moretti, my second brother's wife, kept a protective hand over her still-flat belly. Chiara Moretti, my third brother's wife, covered her daughter's eyes with her shawl.

No one mentioned the men who had "betrayed" us anymore.

Half an hour earlier, in front of everyone, my grandmother had crossed my father's and my three brothers' names out of the family Bible.

"This family honors men who die fighting, not rats who sell out their own.

"Since they've turned their backs on the family and its honor, we won't carry their shame for them."

At that, my mother finally began to cry.

She didn't plead for my father. She just tucked the cross into her sleeve.

He'd given it to her right before his first shootout for the family.

On the back was engraved an old Sicilian saying.

"For family and honor, I will come home."

For 30 years, he had always come home.

But on my wedding day, he'd told my mother he wanted nothing more to do with this family.

When I closed my eyes, I was still in my white wedding dress, waiting for a groom who never came.

When I opened them again, I was floating high above the chapel floor.

Below me, my body lay slumped against the altar, a trickle of blackened blood staining the corner of my mouth.

My mother had already stopped breathing.

Before she died, Sofia had clasped her children's hands in her own, as if afraid they might lose each other even in heaven.

My youngest niece, Lucia Moretti, was only six.

Only the day before, she'd blocked my bedroom doorway, insisting Dante pay her ten gold coins if he wanted to take her favorite aunt away.

Now she lay curled up in Chiara's arms. She would never hold out her little hand for money again.

Teresa's hand had stayed on her belly until the very end. Only a few days earlier, she'd told me she wanted to share the good news with Paolo once she was three months along.

She would never get that chance now. And Paolo would never meet the child she had tried so hard to protect.

I thought I'd hate them.

But even in death, I could think of only one thing.

Have they really betrayed the family and gone over to the FBI?

My father had spent decades running the family. He'd taken seven bullets over the years, three of them while protecting his own men.

My oldest brother, Marco Moretti, despised rats. Only the year before, he'd personally executed a capo for leaking information.

Dante was even less likely to betray us.

He had risen to power at 18 and become underboss at 23. When we got engaged, he promised that once things settled down, he would take me to see the snow in the Alps.

How could every one of them change overnight?

Then I heard two men laughing outside the chapel.

I floated out and saw them leaning against the wall, smoking cigars.

"The Don really spoils Ms. Eva, doesn't he? He actually staged a whole betrayal just for her."

The other one snorted.

"Come on, it's all staged. The informant deal? Fake. The list of undercover agents? Blank. And those FBI agents outside the city? Our own guys playing dress-up."

I froze.

The first man chuckled. "What about those letters telling their wives to get lost? And Mr. Dante tearing up the marriage contract in public? Poor Ms. Isabella was completely humiliated."

"Had to make it look real, didn't they? Otherwise, Ms. Eva would've seen right through it.

"They'll all be back by morning. The Don even sent me out for the Donna's favorite tiramisu. Says he'll grovel if that's what it takes to win her back."

Then the talk turned to Dante.

The other man shook his head. "And Mr. Dante's even crazier. He calls off the wedding, then tells everyone to leave the bridal suite exactly as it is. Says Ms. Isabella had a rough night, so he'll come pick her up tomorrow morning and do the whole wedding over. That way she can't hold tonight against him.

"He never meant to call off the wedding in the first place. Geez, all this drama just to keep two girls happy."

They both laughed. Neither of them thought anything could go wrong that night.

They even discussed who would open the chapel doors in the morning.

The two of them strolled off, still grinning.

For the first time, I realized that even ghosts could feel cold.

My father hadn't betrayed us. My brothers hadn't abandoned their wives and children.

And Dante hadn't really called off our wedding.

Every cruel word, every act of betrayal that night had been a lie.

Only the 12 deaths inside the chapel were real.