He Planned a Fake Wedding, So I Took Our Son and Vanished

He kept talking, his fingers trailing along my cheek.

Once, I'd wanted him in a way that started in the body, and a touch like this would have undone me. Now nothing moved in me at all.

"Whatever Gemma Vitale wants, the girl's people buy it. Today she was perched on a pink piano in the club's back room, a tablet in her lap, laughing like she owned the place."

I let the barb show on purpose.

Lorenzo blinked, then went off like a struck match, shoving to his feet, brow knotting. "Why does it always have to be about comparing yourself to someone else?"

"It's just one gift. What's with the tone? Are you picking a fight on purpose?"

"Is it Marco who wants the present, or is it you?"

I said nothing. I only lifted my eyes and held his.

The air went stiff between us, the way a room goes still when a made man reaches for his coat.

Something seemed to give in him. He looked away, and his voice dropped, much softer now.

"Tesoro, let's not fight. Marco's birthday is the day after tomorrow, and I'm going to give him a big surprise, I promise."

"You just keep your spirits up these next couple of days. Get ready for our seven days in Scandinavia."

I nodded and excused myself to the study, saying I had matters of the Family to settle.

The next day.

In the middle of the sit-down at the social club, with the inner circle gathered around the long table, Vivian Costa spoke up out of nowhere. "While Adriana's away these few days, surely someone has to carry her arrangements?"

"I'd like to put myself forward."

A smile curled at her mouth, and her eyes stayed fixed on me, edged with challenge.

A stunned beat. Then everyone turned at once to Lorenzo, waiting for his answer.

It was only seven days. At worst Lorenzo could carry her dealings himself, or hand them to one of his capos.

No one had expected Vivian to reach for that kind of standing to a fixer's face.

It was, frankly, absurd.

"Do as Vivian says."

Lorenzo drew a slow breath and looked at me. "Adriana, take your leave and don't worry about a thing. Hand your business to Vivian. She's more than capable."

The whole room went silent. Even the soldier by the door stopped chewing his toothpick.

This time every eye in it landed on me.

"Adriana."

"You don't actually think I'm trying to take your place at this table, do you?"

Vivian's smile widened, and the taunt in her voice sharpened right along with it. Her fingers grazed her collarbone, the laugh coming a beat too quick.

Everyone in the room caught the scent of a fight coming, the way men do before the guns come out.

Ten years brokering the Falcone Family's most dangerous truces, and not one person at that table didn't know I moved fast and hard and was no one to cross.

Even Lorenzo looked tense.

But I only smiled, and beneath the table my thumb turned the wedding band a half-rotation, weighing him one last time. "Fine. I agree."

No one had expected me to give up the seat so easily. Only Lorenzo let out a long breath, a smile breaking across his face.

Before she could get another word out.

I stood and walked.

Lorenzo came after me, catching my hand from behind.

"Tesoro!"

"Just hear me out."

I turned and cut him off. "Hear what? That this whole sit-down was aimed at me from the start?"

Never mind me. Anyone at that table with eyes could see it. Lorenzo was using me to clear the road for Vivian.

And it had started with the seven days in Scandinavia.

He'd buried it so deep.

That I hadn't seen it before then.

"Tesoro, let me explain. Really."

He spread his arms and pulled me in tight, his voice all earnest, the way a Don speaks when he still believes he can talk his way past blood. "Vivian's gifted. She can rise, bring fresh strength to the Family."

"I'm backed into a corner here. This was the only way I could think of."

"When you come back, I'll make you underboss, give you a seat above every capo we have, I promise. I hope you can understand."

Underboss?

Don't make me laugh.

There had never been such a seat carved out for a woman in the Falcone Family, not once since the old Don first claimed the docks.

It was the same as that present he kept swearing he'd give our son. A picture of a meal, nothing on the plate.

"Ten years."

"For ten years I've been understanding you. Making room for how hard things were for you."

I let a few seconds pass before I said it, almost a sigh.

"Right, tesoro, you're the best!"

And Lorenzo actually took it for me letting go of my anger. The compliment was enough. He turned and walked back into the room where the rest of the family waited.