When I got back to the estate, seven or eight black wooden crates were stacked in the entrance hall.The butler told me they had come from a wedding photography studio. The recipient was Bianca, but the address was the estate Enzo and I shared.I opened the top crate and found a wedding album bound in black leather.In the photographs, Bianca nestled against Enzo. He posed with her in the chapel, the vineyard, and the old family home. In one shot, he was even kissing her temple.Ten years together, and he and I did not have a single formal photograph.Enzo always said photographs helped enemies identify weaknesses, so even at our engagement he let the photographer shoot nothing but two clasped hands.And now he had posed through an entire wedding shoot with Bianca.I turned to the last page of the album, and my breath caught.The lace veil on Bianca's head belonged to my mother.My mother, Elena Moretti, had left it to me before she died, asking Enzo to place it on me himself on our we
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