After Eight Lost Babies, I Left Him Forever

By noon the next day, Lorenzo still hadn't returned to the estate.

I placed the signed dissolution of the marriage pact on the table and arranged for a recording to reach him at a scheduled hour. In the Family, a woman did not simply walk away from a Falcone. So I left the words where he could not pretend he hadn't heard them.

Once that was done, I turned my plain wedding band once around my finger, grabbed my luggage, and went for the airfield.

As soon as I arrived, Lorenzo called again.

"Sorry, cara. Some of the Family's partners showed up without warning to settle next quarter's shipments through the fashion house. I really can't leave right now."

"I had your man handle everything for you. And I remembered you've always wanted me to design a dress for you, right? It's all ready. Once you try it on, it'll look amazing."

"Okay. Thank you."

After I hung up, my gaze drifted to two girls standing near me.

They were huddled together, eyes glued to a phone screen, squealing under their breath as if afraid the wrong man might hear.

"Dio, I can't believe Lorenzo Falcone is not only that handsome but designs such beautiful maternity gowns. I'm starting to wish I were pregnant!"

"You think you can just buy them? Every piece at today's showing was made by Falcone himself for his pregnant woman. Each one's unique, cut from the most expensive cloth money can launder. There must be hundreds of them. She'll never wear them all before the baby comes. I'm so jealous."

"I heard he doesn't want anyone disturbing her, so the showing was by invitation only. Your man's really something, working the floor for the Falcones and slipping us these photos. If it wasn't for him, we'd never get a peek at this."

In the video, Carmela walked arm in arm with Lorenzo, gliding through the elegant gowns made just for her, her smile radiant and carefree.

The Falcone fashion house was a power in its own right, a clean front draped over dirty money, and Lorenzo's hands had a true gift for the work. I used to joke with him, asking him to make a dress for me.

He always brushed it off, claiming the Family kept him too busy to find the time. But for Carmela? He'd cut a hundred pieces without a second thought.

Looking back on what he'd said this morning, the smooth promise of a dress as a surprise, that smug warmth in his voice, it felt so painfully ironic.

Soon they called the flight. I turned off my phone and settled into my seat on the plane bound for a country far beyond the Family's arm.

After picking out Carmela's gowns, Lorenzo went on to the hotel for the surprise birthday party he'd arranged for Adriana.

He pictured how she would look in the dress he'd chosen, soft as something out of a dream.

But instead of his bride, he found his soldier waiting, pale and shaken at the door. "Don Lorenzo. Something's wrong. The madam is gone."