Five Years of Lies:My Husband Sacrificed My Mother for His First Love

I froze where I stood, still trying to make sense of what had happened.

A figure rushed out from behind me and shoved me to the ground.

Bianca was pulled into his arms.

Lorenzo looked at me, his eyes brimming with rage.

"Adriana! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

"Bianca only came here out of kindness to check on you, to clear up the misunderstanding from years ago, and you raise a hand against her?"

His eyes were wide enough to split, and there wasn't a trace of love left in the way he looked at me.

I curled my lips into a cold smile.

"She brought up my mother, Lorenzo."

"That misunderstanding from years ago. Don't you owe me an explanation?"

His brow knotted, and a flash of panic crossed his eyes. Two fingers drifted to the wedding band he never removed, resting there a beat too long.

"What explanation? Your mother was gravely ill and the surgery failed. You knew that, didn't you?"

"Whatever happened back then, it's no reason for you to lay a hand on Bianca!"

"Adriana, apologize to her right now!"

Before I could say a word, Bianca had already draped herself over his shoulder. Her fingertips pressed to her collarbone, a beat too fast.

"Don't... don't be hard on Adriana. When Marco called off the betrothal, we were already the ones who wronged her. Let today be my way of making it up to her..."

"Since she hates me this much, let's just stop seeing each other from now on. I don't want to put you in a difficult spot."

My nails dug hard into my palms, and blood slid down drop by drop.

Watching the two of them walk away in each other's arms, I knew we were finished.

I picked up the box again and went on lighting what was inside.

Five years of love turned to ash in that moment. The smoke curled up into the still air of the estate, and not one of the men posted along the walls turned to look.

It was a full hour before Lorenzo sent word to explain.

"Bianca holds the Gallo line's stake in the project. Moving against her is bad for the Family. Making you apologize today was just a stopgap, a show put on for her. Don't read too much into it."

"Once I've handled this, I'll come home tonight and make it up to you, all right? I said I'd give you a betrothal tribute. Don't be upset, okay?"

But I knew this performance wasn't put on for Bianca at all.

It was put on for me.

This devotion. He'd faked it for five years.

And now it was time for it to end.

I held the severance of our union and waited at home until the small hours.

Still he didn't come.

There was only the word spreading through the territory about the Don of the Moretti Family flying into a rage for the sake of a woman at the hospital.

Bianca had nothing more than a minor scrape, and he'd summoned the Family's every physician to examine her.

For that, he hadn't balked at laying down a fortune in laundered cash.

In the photographs that found their way to my phone, he held Bianca in his arms.

In his eyes was a tenderness, an intimacy, I had never once seen.

That night, the hospital blazed with light.

All to deal with one woman's minor scrape.

When dawn came, I called him.

He didn't speak first, busy giving instructions to his men about Family matters.

"Don Moretti, are you certain you want to alter the pact? If you do, the Family stands to lose a fortune funneling that tribute to the Gallos!"

"Won't you please reconsider?"

"No need. Change it. It's what I promised her. And on top of that, draw up another oath signing over half my stake and standing within the Family to Bianca."

Only after his man had gone did Lorenzo remember the call he'd picked up.

"Adriana? Sorry, I kept you waiting. I'll be home soon. Right, did you call about something?"

I looked down at the burned skin on my hands.

"It's nothing. You go ahead and see to the Family. I won't keep you."

"Okay. Be a good girl and wait at home for me. I'll be back soon."

I didn't keep waiting.

I signed my name to the renunciation of all claim.

Packed my bags and left the house.

I went to the hospital where my mother had been taken that night and pulled the record of the life signed away from her body.

The name at the bottom was mine.

Lorenzo had deliberately forged my hand.

I made a copy of it and had it sent to Lorenzo.

By my timing, it would reach him just as I boarded my flight into distant territory.

A day and a night, and I didn't go home.

He didn't go back either.

The moment I boarded the plane.

He finally sent a message.

"Adriana? I had my man drop the tribute off at home. Why won't you open the door?"

"Are you still angry?"

"Stop sulking. Be good. Your husband will be home soon."

He was lying to me again.

Half an hour earlier, a small-time hanger-on had run into him out with Bianca.

And was still quietly feeding word back, trailing them through the streets.

He was busy helping Bianca choose a gown for the night he would name her stake before the Commission.

I didn't reply again.

After word came through that my forged papers and clean name were ready, I deleted every one of his contacts.

And back in the territory, his man came rushing to him, the record in hand, his face ashen.

"This is bad, Don Moretti! Your wife found out the truth about what was done five years ago! I can't reach her!"