Chapter 3

I slept for a whole day. I woke up drenched in cold sweat.

The sky was completely dark. My phone screen was lit up with a flood of notifications.

They were all updates about Dominic at Vivian's family dinner.

In the top photo, she wore a burgundy gown with a sparkling diamond necklace.

The usually low-profile Don had spent millions on the Mafia princess. He won an astronomical set of diamond jewelry at an auction.

Vivian smiled exceptionally brightly in the photo.

Someone cheered in the comments: Congratulations to our Principessa.

Someone else said: This is the woman who should be sitting in that seat.

I scrolled down and zoomed in on the screen. My eyes locked onto Dominic's left hand holding a wine glass.

It was completely bare.

He had taken off his wedding ring a long time ago.

The drugs had worn off completely. The pain returned right on schedule. It shot all the way from the back of my head to my temples, like someone was drilling screws into my skull.

I curled up on the bed and waited it out for ten minutes. Cold sweat soaked my pillowcase.

The phone suddenly buzzed. It was Dominic calling.

"Why won't you answer the phone? Do you always have to push me to the edge?" His voice carried its usual harshness, but faintly suppressed a trace of panic.

"Sunday dinner," his voice came through the receiver. "Seven o'clock. The main estate."

I opened my mouth. My throat ached from dryness. "I won't..."

"Hazel." He cut me off, pausing for a second. His tone softened a bit. "You haven't shown your face in three months. People are talking."

"Be good and let me see you. Wear something warm. The temperature is dropping."

The call ended. I held the phone and sat in the dark.

It was that very last sentence that made me drag myself out of bed.

I swallowed a double dose of painkillers and put on makeup to hide the dark bags under my eyes. I picked out the black dress he used to love most.

I only realized when zipping it halfway up that the waist was loose by two whole inches. The woman staring back at me in the mirror looked extremely fragile.

I pushed open the heavy doors of the dining hall. The massive mahogany table was packed with family members.

When I walked in, all conversation stopped for a second.

Dominic sat at the head of the table. Vivian, wearing a stunning gown, sat comfortably at his right hand. The seat meant for the Donna.

Because Dominic didn't say a word, I was silently led by a server to the very end of the long table.

I sat down. Someone chuckled softly behind me.

Dominic looked up. Across the entire table, past the candelabras, wine bottles, and a sea of heads, his gaze rested on my face for two seconds. His brow furrowed ever so slightly.

When the appetizers arrived, I couldn't swallow a single bite.

The pain began to surge with a vengeance.

The double dose of pills couldn't suppress it. I hid my hands under the tablecloth and pinched my own thighs. Cold sweat slid down my neck.

"Speaking of which," an elder on the Commission put down his silverware. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried across the whole table. "How much was spent on those diamonds tonight again?"

"Seven figures," someone answered with a laugh.

"Worth it. It looks beautiful on Vivian." The old man slowly turned his head. His eyes fell on me. "Unlike some people. Three years now, and what has she brought to this family since walking through that door?"

"We all see how much money leaves Dominic's accounts every month," he said. "An associate's daughter. No background, no dowry, no children. Not even a say in the family business."

He raised his wine glass.

"This family doesn't harbor freeloaders. Or leeches."