Chapter 2

Rafael's mother called the next morning.

"Elodie, there is a family dinner tonight. You and Rafael will attend together."

I slipped my studio keys into my bag. "I won't be there."

"Rafael said you had a disagreement."

"I asked him for a divorce."

She laughed softly, as if I had said something childish.

"A Vescari marriage is not an ordinary romance. You are the Don's wife, carrying his heir. Whatever happens in private, the outside world cannot see a fracture within this family."

"This isn't about saving Rafael's pride. It's about ending the marriage."

Her voice cooled. "Be angry. Demand compensation. But do not challenge his authority in public. Rafael came to collect you himself. That was his concession."

"He brought Sloane."

"Then you have even less reason to hide. Sloane will attend tonight. You are his lawful wife. If you lack the courage to sit beside him, people will assume she can replace you."

She did not care whether I had been hurt. She cared that the Don had been defied and that outsiders might see his marriage breaking.

"I'm not going."

"The Vescari name gave you status, safety, and protection. None of that comes without obligations. Seven o'clock. Do not make Rafael send someone for you."

I hung up.

That afternoon, my assistant Maya met me at the studio door with an uneasy expression.

"Don Vescari is here."

Rafael sat in the lounge with Sloane beside him, flipping through my students' portfolios. On the table were lunch and the prenatal supplements my doctor required. Rafael knew my appetite had been poor and remembered exactly when I needed to eat. That did not stop him from invading my workplace to force my submission.

Sloane smiled sweetly when she saw me. "Your work is beautiful."

Her hand rested on a watercolor I had submitted to a young artists' exhibition. An old streetlamp illuminated an empty chair. Rafael once said he loved it, so I had revised the light seventeen times.

"It's a little lonely," Sloane said. "I wouldn't hang it in a home."

"Sloane wants to learn to paint," Rafael said. "I brought her to look around."

"My studio does not accept unannounced visitors."

Sloane's eyes immediately filled. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I wasn't welcome."

Rafael's warning came in one word. "Elodie."

Several students were watching, but I refused to retreat from my own studio.

Rafael approached me. "Was yesterday not enough? I came to take you to the family dinner."

"I already declined."

His smile held no warmth. He turned toward Sloane. "You like that painting? Take it."

"Can I? It belongs to Elodie."

"I'll buy it. The security system, equipment upgrades, exhibition contacts. Which part of this studio has never benefited from Vescari resources?"

Silence fell.

The security protected me from his enemies. The equipment had been an anniversary gift. My work had earned its place in the exhibition. With one sentence, he reduced years of effort to his charity.

"The painting is not for sale."

"Or you simply don't want Sloane to have it?"

Her fingers were already touching the frame. I took it from her.

"No one is taking it."

Rafael closed a hand around my wrist, firm enough to prevent escape but not injure me. His other hand automatically steadied my waist, protecting the child even while humiliating its mother.

"Apologize to Sloane."

"You want me to apologize in my own studio to a woman trying to take my work?"

"Do not make me repeat myself."

I pulled free. "Then don't. I will not apologize."

Rafael called the head of security in front of me.

"Withdraw everyone assigned to my wife's apartment and studio."

The man hesitated. "Don, she is pregnant, and the East Side crew has been asking about her schedule."

"She claims she doesn't need the Vescari family. Let her learn what life without its protection feels like."

After hanging up, Rafael leaned close.

"You may be angry, but you will not leave this city carrying my child. When fear teaches you some sense, return to the estate and apologize."

He left with Sloane. Soon, the two cars that had guarded my studio for three years pulled away.