I stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a robe, and checked my phone. The Page Six headline was gone.Refresh. The photo grid on Twitter was gone, too.I typed "Vincenzo Genevieve" into the search bar. Scrubbed from the internet.I chuckled.Only one person in New York had the power to do that.True, a marriage between two major families involved both the legal and underground worlds. They couldn't make a public spectacle of it.But if it wasn't true, why go to such lengths to delete it?I tossed my phone onto the bed.No wonder he walked out without looking back yesterday. He was getting married. He couldn't even be bothered to buy me gifts anymore.Too bad. I never got the deed to this penthouse.For the next three days, Vincenzo didn't call. I didn't either.When Martha brought in my breakfast, she hesitated."Miss, the Boss hasn't...""Martha," I stirred my coffee. "Did he say I need to move out?""...No, but—""Then we're fine."I smiled.But on the fourth morning, I stood in the
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