Chapter 2

That night, Manhattan's most luxurious hotel was brightly lit.

It was hosting an exclusive mafia charity gala named "Aria Valeriano."

All of New York's elite were in the ballroom, praising Don Cassian's devotion to his wife.

But me, the star of the gala, stood alone in the shadows of the second-floor hallway.

I was looking for him to say I wasn't feeling well.

But I stopped outside the half-open oak door of his private study.

Inside, I heard the hushed chuckles of his capos.

"Don Cassian, little Nico is already five. When do you plan to bring the mother and son back to New York?"

My breath hitched.

Then, I heard Cassian's voice. The man who never even raised his voice at me now spoke with a lazy certainty.

"Not yet," he said lightly. "Aria is weak. She can't handle that kind of shock."

A capo chuckled. "You hide them too well. The whole syndicate thinks you'd die for your wife."

Cassian gave a low laugh.

"She trusts me," he said with an arrogant edge. "She would never in her wildest dreams think I have someone else. As long as I keep my mouth shut, she'll live in this perfect fairy tale forever."

My heart recoiled.

This was his proudest leverage. My absolute trust was his free pass.

"Cassian..."

Another woman's voice rang out.

Bianca. Her voice was soft and wronged, as if she were the victim.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come to New York. I don't want to hurt Aria. It's just... Nico misses his daddy."

Through the crack in the door, I saw a scene I would never forget.

Cassian sat on the sofa. He naturally reached out, pulled Bianca into his lap, and kissed the top of her head.

"Don't overthink." His voice was gentle. "I keep my promises to you."

"But..."

"No buts." Cassian cut her off. Calm, but unquestionable. "Next month, I'm flying to Sicily. I'll give you a proper wedding. You waited for me in silence for five years and gave me Nico. I owe you this."

He was giving her a wedding.

When we got married, it was the middle of a gang war. We hastily exchanged rings in a church. He promised me the wedding of the century once everything settled.

And now, he was giving it to my best friend.

"And what about the Donna?" the capo asked cautiously.

Cassian leaned back, idly playing with a cigar.

"There's no conflict."

He mapped out the lives of two women with a cold, rational tone.

"Aria is the Donna. She keeps the ring, the title, and the power. No one can threaten her position."

He said it with so much audacity.

"But," he shifted his gaze to Bianca, "my passion, my wedding, my true self... they belong to Bianca."

He was like a merciful king handing out favors.

"There are twelve months in a year. I'll take one month for Sicily, for Bianca and Nico. For the other eleven months, I won't leave Aria's side."

Cassian stroked Bianca's cheek.

"As long as I don't speak, and you don't speak, she gets eleven months of a perfect husband, and you get my real heart. Aria will never find out."

The mood in the study was light.

Outside, I was drowning in ice.

He thought his lies were a favor to me. He figured playing the good husband for eleven months entitled him to cheat for one.

Music drifted up from the ballroom. They were cheering for "Aria."

I numbly left the gala and went back to our penthouse.

Traces of his "love" were everywhere.

My face was completely numb. I walked into the closet and pulled out a massive black trash bag.

The diamond necklace he won for me at last week's auction. In the trash.

The sexy lingerie he handpicked. In the trash.

Every single "gift" he brought back from his "praying" trips to Sicily. All in the trash.

I was stripping every piece of him out of my life.

Just as I picked up the last music box, Cassian came home.