Chapter 2

Rosaria slammed her wineglass down.

"Serafina, what on earth are you saying? The Mancinis don't need connections like that."

Valentina laughed and slipped her arm affectionately through Rosaria's.

"Don't be upset. Serafina's used to it. You know how it is. Pretty women always get special treatment."

Marcello stared at me. "You're still planning to go back and keep him company?"

Growing up, I had always gotten whatever I wanted. The only fight Papa and I had ever had was over Marcello. No one loved me more than Papa did, so of course I would go back to him.

Marcello shoved his chair back.

"If he values you so much, why won't he marry you? Or is he only willing to throw money around and have his fun, without ever giving you a real place in his life? Is that why you came running to me with a baby in your belly?"

I looked at him, pulled off my wedding ring, and hurled it into the soup in front of him. Scalding broth splashed all over his face.

"I want a divorce."

His anger caught in his throat, and his face flushed a deep red. Valentina stopped smiling too.

I went back to my own apartment. Papa had given it to me for my 18th birthday, and Marcello had never set foot in it.

A photo of Marcello and me from when we first got together still sat in the living room. He was holding me with his forehead pressed to my cheek, and a brilliant field of flowers stretched out behind us.

I had met him at a cocktail party two years earlier. He had been there with a few of his men to keep order. A drunk guest was harassing me, and while I was still deciding whether to tell Papa, Marcello stepped in and ran him off.

I deliberately acted as if I were afraid of the man’s retaliation. Instead of brushing me off, he comforted me and told me not to worry. When the party ended, he watched me from a distance until I was safely in my car.

It was hard not to fall for someone so gentle and considerate, and eventually, we became a couple.

He did not know Vito Rinaldi was my father.

He always treated me as if I were a fragile doll. After a job, he would quietly hide his bloodstained jacket. When he came home after drinking, he would stand out in the cold wind for a while before entering the house to air out the smell of alcohol.

I noticed every one of those little things.

Papa did not like him, though.

"He's ambitious, but he doesn't have the nerve to go after anyone stronger than himself."

I refused to listen. I thought Papa had been the Don for so long that he looked down on everyone, and we had a huge fight.

Not long after, I found out I was pregnant. Marcello was beside himself when he saw the test results. He scooped me up and spun me around.

"Sera, I'm going to be a dad!"

That night, he knelt by the bed and proposed. He said he would work even harder to give the baby and me a secure future.

Afraid Papa might do something to him in a fit of rage, I married him without telling my family. Papa was so furious that he hung up on me, and even Mamma, who had always doted on me, could only sigh.

At first, I simply felt wronged. I thought they were judgmental and prejudiced, and I told myself to wait a little longer. I would wait for the baby to arrive, for Papa's anger to cool, and for Mamma to soften. Once they saw their grandchild, they would not be angry anymore.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, picked up a lighter, and set the photo on fire. Once it had burned to ash, I washed the ashes down the drain.

There were plenty more photos of us on my tablet, and I planned to delete every one of them. The moment the screen lit up, it logged into Marcello's account automatically. He had borrowed my tablet to send an email a while back and forgotten to sign out.

In the messaging app, Valentina had sent a message to a small group chat made up entirely of his friends.

Valentina: [Serafina's lost her mind! I made a couple of jokes, and now she wants a divorce!]

Marcello's other best friend, Danilo Ricci, replied right away.

Danilo: [Haha! That's what you get for telling the truth. Guilty conscience much?]

Danilo: [Marcello, you earned that promotion. Your wife spends her days with an old man and comes home to sleep with you at night, and you still put up with it.]

Gianni Esposito sent a string of laughing emojis.

Gianni: [She was blushing in her wedding dress yesterday. What a convincing innocent angel act!]

More of his friends chimed in.

[Don't say that. She's carrying two now. That's precious cargo.]

[No wonder she had the nerve to ask for a divorce. Two bargaining chips in one go!]

The messages kept scrolling. Marcello stayed silent and did not say a single word in my defense.

Then Valentina sent a video. She was sitting on Marcello's lap, her arms around his neck, kissing him. Behind them was our marriage bed, and the congratulations cards we had not finished opening the day before were still stacked on the nightstand.

Someone in the chat immediately started egging them on.

[Guess we don't need to worry about you two!]

[The bride's barely out the door, and you two couldn't wait?]

Valentina replied with an exasperated emoji.

[Marcello says the bed always smells like an old man after she's slept in it, so he insisted on dragging me in here to lie down for a bit.]