Seven Years of Lies, a False Heir in My Belly

"That's the Don's doing, no question. They say Marchetti puts a new watch on his wife's wrist every year, like clockwork."

"Elena Castellano must have saved a saint's life in another world to be claimed by a man like Don Marchetti."

"Don't sell her short. Her blood was no small thing. Her father ran the whole Harbor District before he went."

"A pity he died so young. They say it was rage that put him in the ground. Otherwise the old Don Castellano would still be the name every man in the Harbor District feared."

…

I stopped just outside the door of his study.

Lorenzo's voice carried through the wood, sharp with an anger he rarely let surface.

"I ordered two watches. One standard, one of the limited pieces."

"The standard one has already come. And now you stand there and tell me to wait on the other?"

"Is that how you do business with a man like me?"

"I don't want excuses. If that watch isn't in my hands within the hour, you'll answer for it. And you won't like the form the question takes."

So he had bought two watches.

I stood in the corridor a few minutes longer, then pushed the door open and walked in.

The moment his eyes found me, the cold fell away from his face and a smile rose in its place.

"Elena, you're here."

"Give me a moment, tesoro. Let me finish with these papers and I'm yours."

I told him there was no rush, that we had time enough.

Then I sat on the leather couch, scrolling through my phone, waiting in silence.

Lorenzo was a striking thing when he worked, all focus and unhurried command, the kind of stillness that made grown soldiers wait their turn to speak.

For a hazy moment, I thought I caught something of my father in him.

It wasn't strange, really. Both of them were men born to sit at the head of a table while others held their breath.

Not half an hour later, my phone buzzed with a notification.

I opened it. Vittoria had posted to her feed.

Nine photos, every one of them a close-up of the watch riding her wrist.

"The finest birthday gift I've ever been given."

"They say each new year outshines the last. I say having you outshines everything."

The comments came fast.

"Isn't that the Patek Philippe that only just dropped?"

"Dio, that's the limited diamond-set piece. Worth more than thirty-seven million."

"So jealous."

"No need to guess whose hand gave her that."

"My lips are sealed. I only wish two people in love their happy ending."

I kept scrolling, searching for Lorenzo's name in the comments. It wasn't there.

I glanced up. He was still bent over his work, his phone lying quiet at his elbow.

That was when it settled in me. When Vittoria posted this, she had almost certainly blocked him from ever seeing it.

Something bitter pulled at the corner of my mouth.

As far back as I could remember, today was the first time I had ever seen Lorenzo that furious.

And it had all been over a watch.

At last he finished, and we drove to the Marchetti estate together.

On the way, I closed my eyes and pretended to drift off.

His phone rang.

He turned to study my face, decided I was asleep, and only then answered.

"Lorenzo, thank you for such an expensive watch."

The voice through his earpiece was faint, but I sat close enough to catch every word.

The corner of his mouth lifted.

"It's only a little over thirty million. Hardly expensive."

"As long as it pleases you."

Vittoria sounded touched. "All these years, you've given me so much."

"And every gift more precious than the last."

"It troubles me. If Elena ever found out, she'd be hurt."

"I don't want the two of you set against each other because of me."

He gave a calm, low laugh. "Don't worry yourself. She won't find out."

"And I bought one for her too."

"Not as fine as yours, of course."

Vittoria dropped her voice to a whisper. "Lorenzo, tonight. Could you spend it with me?"