Five Years of Sicilian Whispers

"Alright, just put up with it for my sake."

"After the banquet, I'll take you to see the sunset over the Hudson River, how about that?"

Before he could finish, a woman in a haute couture gown strode over. Before I could see her face clearly, Nico took a step forward, positioning himself between me and the newcomer.

"Nico, your father wants you inside. He says there are important family matters to discuss."

"What is it? I have to leave soon for something else."

The woman didn't press the issue.

"It's about the engagement..."

Nico coughed dryly, cutting her off, then turned to me with a troubled look.

"Genevieve, my Papa probably needs me for some business. Why don't I have the driver take you home first?"

"As soon as I'm done here, I'll come back and take you to see the sunset!"

Without waiting for my reply, he turned and left with the woman. Watching them walk away, side by side, it hit me: the crests pinned to their chests were identical.

Suddenly, the woman glanced back over her shoulder and raised her wine glass to me in a triumphant toast.

Of course. Since Nico had already decided to discard me, why would he risk upsetting his precious Bianca for my sake?

If Nico had only stood firm, insisted it had to be me, I would have revealed my identity and swept every obstacle from his path. But with every action, he pushed me further and further away.

Back at the apartment we shared, Nico's assistant was waiting at the door.

"Mr. Rinaldi personally designed these invitations and needs to see a proof tonight!"

I remembered how he had locked himself in his study these past few days. Every time I asked, he said he was handling family business. The invitations he had so carefully designed were not for me, but for another woman.

And to think I had worried about him, waiting in the living room every evening just to give him a hug when he was tired. I even stayed up all night with him when he worked, just so he wouldn't be alone.

How could a heart change so fast? Two years ago, during a turf war, I’d come down with a nasty case of pneumonia. My fever wouldn't break. Ignoring the doctors, he’d put on a full protective suit and refused to leave the hallway outside my ICU room. The Nico from back then would have risked his life for me. So why could this Nico bear to make me his dirty little secret?

Just as the assistant left, my subordinate called me from Milan on a secure line.

"Miss, Mr. Nico Rinaldi just called headquarters. He specifically wants to purchase the limited-edition vintage Ferrari you had your eye on three years ago."

"He said that no matter the cost, he's determined to have it. He wants to make his new bride the most envied woman in the city."

I'd had that car on reserve for three years. For three years, I had endlessly discussed modification plans with the designer, even incorporating my late mother's design preferences.

My eyes stung, but my voice held steady.

"Since business has come to our door, there's no reason to refuse."

"If he wants it, fine. Sell it to him for double the black market price!"

Using that money to buy out the five years between us wasn't a bad deal.

Less than half an hour later, a text message from the bank arrived on my phone. Ever since I got together with Nico, he always said he wanted to prepare an "escape fund" for us, so we could leave the organization at any time. For this, he opened a bank account in my name and made regular deposits. At first, it was a hundred here and there, then thousands, and later tens of thousands. After he was taken back by the Rinaldi family, he even deposited the entire five million they gave him in one lump sum into that account.

Now, in a single transaction, he had drained the account that had taken five years to build.

"Genevieve, the family business has a bit of a cash flow problem. I'm borrowing this for now, I'll put it back later."

He had taken our money to buy Bianca a sports car.

I gathered all the trinkets and memories he’d given me over the years, ready to purge them in the cold waters of the Hudson.

Nico didn't come back all night. We never saw the promised sunset over the Hudson. The next morning, he rushed back, carrying my favorite Italian breakfast.

"I was tied up with a turf dispute last night, worked late. I was afraid I'd disturb you if I came back, so I just crashed at the office."

"I know I've been neglecting my darling Genevieve, so I got up extra early this morning to buy you your favorite croissants."

His face was a mask of guilt and panic. In the past, hearing him say this would have filled my heart with pain. Now, I didn't even lift my eyelids, continuing to flip through the art catalog in my hands.

When his charm offensive failed, he sidled up to me, trying a different tack.

"Today is the anniversary of the day we met. Why are you still looking at an art catalog?"

"You don't have to work so hard. Even if you quit your job at the gallery, I can support you."

He had suggested I quit my job more than once. Before, I was touched by his concern. Now, I understood his true motive. He wanted to clip my wings, to make me a docile canary in a gilded cage, entirely dependent on him.

"It was my fault for not being with you last night. I've cleared my entire schedule to spend the day with you."

I didn't expose his clumsy lie. I didn't respond, nor did I refuse.