Chapter 3

His question made my heart sink. In the mafia, memorizing phone numbers was a basic survival skill, and yet he did not even recognize mine.

"I'm looking for Valeria," I said after a pause.

"She's in the bathroom." His tone was flat, as though he were directing one of his men. He had not even recognized my voice.

Through the receiver I heard a door open and Valeria calling out. "Babe, help me get dressed..."

The sounds on the other end went still for a moment. Damiano's footsteps receded, then returned a few minutes later.

"Here."

"I can't get my bra clasped... help me?" She was whining, clinging to every syllable.

"Behave. I still have to get back tonight."

"Leaving already? Damiano, did I wear you out?"

He let out a low laugh, his voice dropping. "Valeria, didn't you just find out for yourself?"

Valeria laughed with delight, and then came a muffled thud from the other end, like a body being tossed onto a mattress.

I stared at the disconnected call on my screen, tears streaming down my face before I even realized it.

A few hours later, a new post appeared on Valeria's account. In the frame, a hand with sharp, defined knuckles traced along her waist. His fingertips hooked under the lace edge of her underwear, drawing lazy circles. The Vacheron Constantin on his wrist caught the light and flared almost white.

The comments section was scrolling nonstop.

"Tutorial please! How do you lock down a man like that?"

She had picked one to reply to. "No tutorial. He's here because he wants to be."

The sight of that watch made my eyes sting. The year Damiano first became Don, the family's accounts were riddled with debt. He had looked at that watch in a shop window for over two years and never once mentioned buying it.

I secretly sold the expensive necklace my mother had given me and flew to Lucerno to buy it for him.

The night I discovered his affair with Valeria, I smashed that necklace. He flew to Lucerno himself to have a craftsman piece it back together fragment by fragment, then knelt before me and said that even broken things could be repaired. The hairline fracture left behind from the impact would never fully disappear.

Someone in the comments raised a challenge. "You won't even show your face. Sounds like a mistress with something to hide."

Valeria's reply was a voice message. I pressed play with trembling hands.

It was Damiano's voice. "She's not some dirty secret. She's the woman I love."

I pressed my phone facedown against the pillow and closed my eyes for a few seconds. Then I dialed again. This time, I called Damiano directly.

"Let's get a divorce."

The other end went quiet for a beat. "What's gotten into you now? Can we talk about this when I get home?"

"There's nothing left to talk about. You should still have a copy of the agreement from last time. Just sign it."

Genuine concern crept into his voice. "I really do have something urgent going on. I'll be home soon."

In the background, I could faintly make out the sounds of a woman stirring.

I let out a laugh, though there was no satisfaction in it. "Don't bother coming back. Go take care of your business."

He sounded like he was struggling to keep himself in check, his voice wound tight. "We made a promise. No matter what happened, we wouldn't bring up divorce again."

The next second, a bedspring creaked on his end. A woman's voice pitched high before cutting off abruptly.

I did not answer. I hung up, reached into the bottom of the drawer, and pulled out the blood oath.

The paper had yellowed, but the handwriting was still perfectly legible, that he would never stray again, for as long as he lived. He had seared a mark at the bottom with a bullet casing, saying that was the only way the family would bear witness.

I found the divorce papers, scanned them, and sent them to his email.

Less than three minutes later, the phone rang. Damiano's voice was barely controlled, fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"Valentina! Half of everything I own is yours. Just don't file for divorce."

A tear landed on the back of my hand. I bit down on my lip and forced the words out of my throat.

"No."