Chapter 4

At 6:07 p.m. on the day our marriage was set to end, Nico called. Two hours remained before the final review.

"I'll be there." His voice sounded exhausted. He wasn't asking me to cancel the divorce review anymore. He wasn't accusing me of forcing his hand either. "Alessia, whatever happens, the least we can do is end it face to face."

My fingers brushed over my half of the seal as I stared at the silver box. This was the first time Nico had truly accepted that I was leaving.

"The review starts at eight. They won't wait for you."

"I know."

Less than half an hour after we hung up, Nico called again. I could hear hurried footsteps behind him.

"Bianca has severe stomach pain. I'm taking her to the doctor."

"All right."

My calm seemed to catch him off guard. After a brief pause, he added, "The moment the doctor is done, I'll come straight there."

"The review waits for nobody," I said again.

"You have my word."

At eight sharp, the chapel doors closed. Salvatore sat on the left. The neutral witness sat on the right. Between them, the registrar laid out every privilege and financial tie that had connected me to the family for six years: housing, vehicles, family protection, medical coverage, joint guarantees, and my place in the seat at Nico's right hand.

I had already returned every clearance and settled every joint account. They had no grounds to stop me from leaving.

Salvatore looked at me and said, "Once your marriage ends, you'll no longer have automatic protection in Saint Vito territory. Do you understand the risk?"

"I do."

"Your Marseille job is under probation. Leaving here doesn't mean you'll find a place there."

"I understand."

The registrar went through everything we shared, line by line. The jewelry Nico had given me was legally mine. The three old contracts I'd been holding for him had already been transferred. We had no children and no outstanding debts. Six years together came down to a stack of paperwork.

I used to think ending a life together would mean pulling apart hundreds of tangled pieces. When I saw everything laid out in front of me, I realized how little of our lives had ever truly been shared. We had lived apart for years. I had handled more of Nico's business than I could count, while he barely knew what went on in my life. The safe house had been the one place that truly belonged to both of us. Now even that was gone.

I wasn't leaving because I had somewhere better to go. Even if Marseille rejected me tomorrow, I wasn't coming back.

At 8:19, Nico called. The registrar reminded me that I had the right to hear Nico's final statement before the divorce was completed, so I put him on speaker.

The other end was strangely quiet.

"Alessia." His voice was tight. "Bianca is pregnant."

For a second, I couldn't think.

"How far along?"

"Twelve weeks."

The chapel clock ticked above us. I stared at the date printed on the table and counted backward. Twelve weeks ago, I had spent three days helping Bianca prepare the Velvet Club for its annual compliance review. She kept pretending she couldn't understand the requirements and begging me to help her through them. During those same three days, Nico told me important guests were visiting the port and that he would be working late every night. I believed them both. While they were sleeping together, I was working myself sick to help her business pass the review.

I had even put my reputation on the line and ended up being betrayed by them.

"Whose child is it?"

There was a short silence before Nico answered. "Me."

One word. That was all it took. The neutral witness wrote it down without a word. Nico started explaining in broken sentences. Bianca's stomach pain had led to the pregnancy test. He'd only found out ten minutes ago. He kept stressing that he hadn't known before tonight, as if that would minimize the damage.

But I didn't care when he'd found out about the baby. Twelve weeks ago, Nico and I were still together. He was still kissing me and telling me he loved me.

The pain of his betrayal hit me all over again.

"Was there only one time?"

A long silence. I already had my answer.

"No," he admitted at last. "I wasn't drunk. Nobody tricked me or forced me. I knew how she felt about me, and I knew exactly what you and I were to each other."

Salvatore closed his eyes.

"So you knew exactly what you were doing the whole time."

"Yes."

Nico's breathing was heavy through the phone.

"I've betrayed you. When I get to the chapel, I'll tell you everything."

"The truth is already clear enough."

"Alessia, let me finish." His voice suddenly grew urgent. "Bianca's pregnancy isn't stable. The doctor says she needs to rest. Her club guarantee is about to expire. If she loses her license, she'll lose both her income and medical coverage."

For a second, I thought I'd heard him wrong.

"Could you renew her guarantee for another three months? Just three months. Once the baby is stable, I'll find someone else to back her."

The chapel fell silent. I stared at the seal as six years of memories flashed through my mind. Six years ago, I dug through old records to clear Nico's name. Years ago, I put my reputation on the line for Bianca. Last night, I left Blackwater Docks badly hurt, and Nico still put her first. Now he'd admitted to months of cheating, yet he was still asking me to clean up their mess.

"Alessia, one last time." His voice dropped into a plea.

A bitter smile touched my mouth. If he'd told me twelve weeks ago, I might have fallen apart and wondered what I'd done wrong. But now I finally understood. This was never about choosing between two women. Nico wanted Bianca's devotion, but he also wanted the stability I'd built for him. He wanted to spoil her while leaving me to carry the risk.

The registrar spoke up. "Applicant, do you wish to continue with the divorce?"

"Continue."

On the other end, Nico kept calling my name. The first chapel bell rang. He wasn't here. The neutral witness confirmed that Nico had received proper notice and understood what would happen if he failed to appear.

When the third bell rang, I placed my half of the seal in the silver dish. The registrar lit it. The wax melted, taking our names with it. The registrar stamped the record and slid the final document toward me.

For the past seventy-two hours, I'd imagined this moment. I expected the burning seal to break my heart and take me back to the day Nico placed the other half in my hand. Instead, I checked the time, read every line twice, and made sure nothing was missing.

At 8:47 p.m., I signed my name on the final line, leaving no empty space for anyone to alter later. The marriage was officially over. Effective immediately.

Outside the chapel doors, tires screamed against the pavement. Nico had finally arrived.