Chapter 2

That afternoon, I went to the Family council room and handed my resignation as Underboss to Anthony, the Consigliere.

Anthony looked up from the signature, his composure slipping for the first time.

"Erin, are you certain about this?"

"You have been with the Don longer than anyone. Half the Moretti Family's routes and alliances passed through your hands."

"We have always said that even if every Capo deserted him, you never would."

"Why now?"

He left the question unfinished. I lowered my eyes.

Until the night before, I had believed the same thing.

Before Lorenzo became Don, all the Moretti Family had left were three failing clubs and one waterfront pier that someone was always trying to seize.

I worked the city beside him, block by block. I sat through negotiation after negotiation and audited ledger after ledger.

When we acquired our first legitimate stake in a casino, Lorenzo spent his first cut buying out a restaurant on the fifty-fourth floor of a Manhattan tower.

That night, with the city's traffic streaming far below us, he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

He said the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him was finding me at his side.

Then Matteo died taking a bullet meant for him.

Lorenzo became Don, and I became his public Underboss.

Everyone knew I was his sharpest blade.

No one knew I was also his wife.

I gave Anthony a faint smile.

"The Family rules allow the Underboss to step down. I have made my decision."

Anthony watched me with open regret.

"Then all I can do is wish you well - and hope you stay safe."

I thanked him quietly and left the council room.

The moment I returned to my office, my phone chimed.

Sera had posted another story visible only to me.

In the photograph, Lorenzo was asleep in an armchair in the old house. Sera sat across from him by the fireplace, his black overcoat draped over her shoulders. Matteo's pocket watch rested on the table between them.

The caption read: Dreamed about Matteo again last night. Thank God someone stayed with me until morning.

As if there were any chance I might miss it, she had tagged me in the photo.

This was not the first time.

Three out of every ten stories came with my name attached. For the other seven, she used her privacy settings to make me the only viewer.

There were no kisses, no embraces, nothing openly inappropriate.

She simply told me the same thing over and over.

The man who made me wait all night would come running the moment she called.

Lorenzo and I had fought about it before.

Each time, he would hold me and speak with patient finality.

"There is nothing between Sera and me."

"She is Matteo's widow. I owe him my life."

"You are my wife, and you understand me better than anyone. Do not make me choose between the two of you."

Lorenzo trusted my love. He trusted my strength.

So he saved every hurt for the woman least likely to break.

I switched off my phone, though the weight on my chest did not lift.

Then I heard two guards speaking in low voices outside my office.

"Mrs. Moretti is here."

"The Don said to send her straight in. He'd had his office cleared."

I looked up.

Sera came down the hall, heels clicking, and went into Lorenzo's office.

A moment later, the blinds came down, cutting the room off from view.

They were discussing a private safe Matteo had left in Sicily. No one else was permitted to listen.

Not even me, his Underboss.

My gaze dropped, and the past rose before me without warning.

Years ago, I had intercepted an attack meant for Lorenzo. Flying glass had torn my arm open.

Behind those same blinds, he had bandaged the wound himself.

He pressed his forehead to mine, his voice rough.

"When the dust settles, I swear all of New York will know you are my wife."

I had believed that promise again and again.

Again and again, I had sat in an empty church and put away the ring that never made it onto my finger.

I touched the divorce settlement and my resignation inside my bag.

There would be no next time.