Chapter 4

At ten the following morning, my attorney called.

"Miss Russo, the family alliance has been formally dissolved. The civil divorce papers are also ready, and they will be delivered to Mr. Moretti after you board your flight, as requested."

He no longer called me Mrs. Moretti. I held the phone in silence before answering, "Thank you."

Five years of marriage had ended more quietly than I ever imagined. There had been no argument and no plea for me to stay. Damian did not even know that, in the eyes of our families, I was no longer Mrs. Moretti. Only the final civil procedure remained.

After the call, I began clearing my things from the study. I took only the letters my mother had sent me and several old albums. The Moretti jewels, accounts, and family seals remained where they belonged.

That afternoon, an alert appeared on the estate security system. The rear villa, which had stood empty for years, had received new access permissions directly from Damian.

I opened the surveillance feed.

Several black cars were parked outside while guards carried luggage indoors. Serena stepped out of one car, and Damian followed with shopping bags from a baby boutique.

After walking only a few steps, she stopped and pressed a hand to her abdomen. Damian immediately supported her. The surveillance feed had no sound, but I could tell from his expression that he was asking her for not moving too quickly.

Soon afterward, the unknown number sent me a medical report. Serena was nine weeks pregnant.

[Damian said this house is the closest one to the Moretti estate. If anything happens to me or the baby, he can reach us immediately.]

So she was carrying his child.

My hand moved instinctively to my abdomen. The wound had not healed, and sharp pain still returned without warning. If our baby had survived, I would have been seven weeks pregnant.

On the screen, Damian crouched in front of Serena and fastened a necklace around her throat. A medal of Saint Gerard hung from the chain, a gift many Catholic families gave an expectant mother to pray for a safe pregnancy.

Five years earlier, I had prayed over one in a church. After years passed without a child, I had put it away.

I closed the surveillance feed without answering Serena.

Half an hour later, Damian returned to the main house carrying a velvet box.

"This is for you." Inside was a Saint Christopher medal.

"You have looked unwell lately." He placed it around my neck himself. "The priest said it would protect you from accidents."

I lowered my eyes to the silver pendant. Damian had prayed for Serena and her child, then remembered to bring me protection as an afterthought.

"Don't you like it?"

"I do."

Satisfied, Damian glanced around the study and quickly noticed the gaps on the shelves. "Where did everything go?"

"I am sending them back to Palermo."

"Why would you do that?"

"I will not need them here much longer."

He assumed I was merely sorting old belongings and did not question me again. Instead, he came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"After your birthday party, I will take you to Sicily for a week."

I froze. Every year since our wedding, I had asked him to visit my family with me. Damian always said family business was too demanding and promised we would go next time. I had waited year after year. Now that I had stopped waiting, he suddenly had time.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" he asked, lowering his face toward mine. "Don't you want me there?"

I looked at our reflected bodies in the window. "It is too late."

"What did you say?"

I turned and straightened his tie. "I said not to forget the party in four days."

"I would never forget." He lifted my hand to his lips. "I have arranged everything, all you have to do is stay beside me."

He still did not understand that by the time the party began, I would no longer be in New York.