The Broken Signet Ring
On the night of the Benedetto family's Harvest Festival, my Mafia husband, Salvatore, told me to bring our son, Giuseppe, to the family gathering.
He said his madre had finally accepted us into the Benedetto bloodline.
I was trembling with excitement in our little cottage as I dressed Giuseppe in his finest little suit.
He had carved a single wooden rose by hand, a project he'd saved for over five years.
He said he would present it to his grandmother at the celebration, a plea for her to accept our place in the family.
But the moment we stepped into the stone manor, I saw Carmela.
Salvatore had her pinned against an oak barrel in a deep, searing kiss.
In the moonlight, her hand was undoing his tie.
In front of everyone, Salvatore smiled and gently pushed her away. He walked toward the family members gathered in a semicircle and raised a crystal glass.
"Tonight, in addition to celebrating the harvest, I have an important announcement."
"I would like to introduce you all to the woman I have married in the eyes of God and the Church."
"Miss Carmela Torrino."
Before I could even process his words, Giuseppe tore his hand from mine and rushed forward.
"Papa, what are you saying?"
"Isn't my mother your wife?"