All Chapters of When Love Runs Dry: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Before anyone could react, I had unbuttoned my cashmere coat.It was late fall, but the heat was cranked up in the living room. Still, I was standing by the door, and a cold draft slithered in through the cracks, raising goosebumps on my bare shoulders.I reached behind my back and unzipped my dress. The thin chiffon slipped past my waist, and the outline of my body was slowly revealed to the stunned room."Oh my God!" one of the women gasped, covering her eyes.But the men's eyes lit up.Only Salvatore's gaze darkened. His lips pressed into a thin, hard line. The fingers digging into the flesh of the girl beside him sank deeper, betraying the turmoil inside him.The dress pooled at my feet, leaving me nearly naked before them all.Salvatore shoved Carmela aside and threw a wool blanket over my shoulders."Francesca, you've got a death wish!" he roared."Everybody, close your goddamn eyes! If one word of what you saw today gets out, I'll cut all of your throats!""Now get out! All of y

In the dim, cramped car, the man in the driver's seat never turned to look at me. I thanked him profusely, but he remained silent.Just as I was getting out, I heard him speak."Francesca, away from Salvatore, there's a whole world waiting for you.""If you make up your mind, call me anytime."A black, gold-embossed business card was passed to me. I took it with both hands, thanking him again. But my mind was entirely on my mother. I shoved it in my pocket without a second glance.I stumbled into the emergency room, and before I could even speak, I saw nurses pushing a gurney out of the operating room, a white sheet covering a body."Has Sophia's family arrived yet?""Well, she's dead now. No point in them coming."The nurses’ casual words pierced my heart. I rushed forward and threw back the sheet. My mother's once-beautiful face was a mess of bruises, her body riddled with bullet holes.For the last eight years, I had resented my mother every single day. I'd even had vicious thoughts

The letter in his hand was from their school days. They weren't even officially together yet. He could almost see the faint sweat stains on the paper, remembering how his own hands had shaken when he wrote it. Salvatore tried to carefully wipe the dust from the letter, but it only smeared the ink, blurring the words of young love until they were illegible."Maria is making pasta today, we better get downstairs and grab a spot.""This shirt looks great on you. You can really tell it's designer.""This bracelet is nice too.""Aren't these boots gorgeous?"The chattering voices from outside the door made Salvatore scowl. He glanced out.His eyes landed on Carmela, who was wearing a blue sweater. The blue sweater he had bought for Francesca in Milan.It was the first real gift he'd ever given her."Stop!"Salvatore stormed out into the hallway, his voice a whip crack. He saw pieces of Francesca scattered among them all—a scarf, a coat, a sweater, a bag, a pair of boots. One of them was eve

Today, the Lucchese family was one of the most powerful in New York, a tier above the Genovese. As wealthy as the Genovese were, they couldn't compete with an old-money dynasty. This was another reason Salvatore had always seen Domenico as a rival."If you don't sign those papers, I have other ways to make sure she never belongs to you again," Domenico threatened, his voice a low growl in Salvatore's ear.I don't know how Salvatore left, only that the chaos outside eventually faded.That night, Domenico sat with me, and we listened to music. Looking at his vaguely familiar profile, I finally asked the question that had been nagging at me."Domenico, did we know each other when we were kids?"His pupils constricted. He turned to me. "You remember?"I shook my head, saying it was just a feeling.Domenico looked disappointed for a moment, then he told me about how, before he was ten, he spent every summer with me on my grandmother's farm. I was shocked to realize I had absolutely no memor

But why, when I looked at him, did I feel nothing but fear?I opened the letter. It was a love note I had written eight years ago, to a boy named Salvatore. The words were full of a young, sweet affection."The notes app on this phone... it's all our history," he said.Hesitantly, I opened the app. It was filled with little entries about a couple's life together.Suddenly, that familiar, dull ache started in my chest. My hand trembled, and I accidentally tapped on the "recently deleted" folder.There was one note there. It was a list of seven women's names, with their likes and dislikes detailed next to each one.I froze, pointing at the phone. "What... what is this?"Salvatore's eyes darted away as he reached for the phone."Salvatore," I pressed, "you said we were together for over a decade. Why do all the diaries and notes stop eight years ago? What happened in those eight years?"He stammered, unable to answer.I sighed and flipped to the last page of the physical diary he'd given