I Paid for the Mafia House,He Made Me a Guest in It

Francesca sent a single line.

"The deed sits in your name, your evidence is complete. Don't go soft."

Lorenzo came to the estate at noon.

He handed me a glass of warm water.

"I was too worked up last night. This weekend I'll take you to look at rings to seal the union."

I looked at the glass.

Bianca's water-temperature label was still stuck to the bottom.

One hundred thirteen degrees.

I didn't take it.

His phone buzzed.

A voice message from Bianca.

"Lorenzo, the throw is a little damp. I can't sleep."

Lorenzo picked up his car keys.

"I'll run to the cleaner and ask. Be right back."

I asked,

"What about the rings?"

He stood in the doorway, the doorway of the house my family's clean money had bought.

"That's not urgent."

I lowered my head and submitted the early-repayment request to clear the debt-claim against the estate.

A confirmation surfaced on the screen.

I turned the thin gold ring on my right hand a half-rotation with my thumb. Then I tapped confirm.

He was busy protecting a throw.

I was busy dismantling a blood-bound home.

Lorenzo agreed to come with me to the hotel for the menu tasting.

I'd booked the time two weeks in advance.

His parents had foods they avoided, and I'd noted it three times. In a Marchetti household, a slighted matriarch at the table was its own kind of bloodletting.

Before we left, he got a call from Bianca.

She said she didn't dare go to her doctor's follow-up alone.

Lorenzo glanced at me.

"You go ahead. I'll take her to the follow-up and catch up to you after."

I picked up the car keys.

"Fine."

He let out a breath.

"Adriana, I knew you'd understand."

I didn't answer that.

The hotel manager brought out the seating chart for the alliance ceremony.

There was an extra name beside the head table.

Bianca Russo.

The notes were very detailed.

Away from the speakers.

Away from the lights.

Close to the lounge.

So Mr. Marchetti could look after her.

I held the pen.

"Who changed this?"

The manager glanced at his screen.

"Mr. Marchetti called to confirm last night."

I set the pen down.

"The head table is where the parents of both bloodlines sit."

The manager gave an awkward little smile.

"Mr. Marchetti said Miss Russo's situation is special."

Half an hour later, Lorenzo arrived.

Bianca trailed behind him.

She had that cashmere throw draped over her, a folder of medical records pinched in her hand, the way another woman might carry a passport into hostile territory.

"Adriana, should I not have come?"

I looked at Lorenzo.

He stepped in front of her.

"She's adjusting to the venue ahead of time, so nothing goes wrong on the day."

I asked,

"My ceremony. Who approved her getting used to it?"

Bianca's eyes reddened. Her gaze flicked once, fast and dry, to see whether it had landed.

Lorenzo's face darkened.

"Don't take it out on her. She can't handle a single harsh word."

I opened the menu.

"Then don't come."

The tasting began.

The first dish, a fish, came out.

Bianca covered her mouth.

"It's fishy."

Lorenzo immediately called the manager.

"Swap this one out."

The second course, a soup, was brought over.

She frowned.

"Too strong."

Lorenzo said,

"Swap that too."

The manager looked at me.

I pushed the menu across.

"Do whatever Mr. Marchetti says."

The music was cued up for a test.

It was the warm-up song I'd chosen.

Bianca bowed her head and clutched the throw.

"That sound presses down on me. I can't breathe."

Lorenzo turned.

"Change it to white-noise piano music."

I looked at him.

"Are the guests coming to an alliance ceremony, or coming to sleep?"

He kept his voice low.

"Adriana, the ceremony is just a formality. Bianca can't be triggered."

I asked,

"And me?"

He paused.

"You've always been the stronger one."

That line landed on the table like a glass set down too deliberately in a silent room.

I closed the folder.

Bianca spoke up softly.

"Maybe I just won't come, so the two of you don't fight."

Lorenzo instantly gripped her wrist.

"No one's telling you to leave."

I saw his hand clearly.

Only then did he catch himself and let go. His thumb dragged once across the empty base of his ring finger before it fell to his side.