The Delayed Wedding: I Refuse It

"Then let's not pretend there's still a wedding to postpone," I said, pulling the suitcase zipper closed. "You won't even be in New York tomorrow. What exactly am I supposed to stay here for?"

For once, Luca didn't have an answer ready.

He watched me for a few seconds, then his voice softened. "I said postponed, not canceled. Something came up in Italy. The port permits, the council votes—everything tied to the southern route is sitting on this negotiation. I can't walk away from it."

It was the kind of explanation I used to accept before he even finished saying it.

Moretti had spent years trying to earn real recognition from the Five Families. Luca had fought for every shipping route, every dock permit, every private dinner where men in dark suits decided who was allowed closer to the inner circle. I knew what the southern route meant to him.

But tonight, I was too tired to help him make excuses.

"Then handle it," I said, slipping my passport into the suitcase. "I have things to deal with at home too."

Luca frowned, but before he could answer, Vanessa came in from the living room with the champagne dress gathered in one hand. A thin layer of ointment shone on the back of her hand. She looked as if she were trying to help, but there was a brightness in her eyes she couldn't quite hide.

"Selene, don't blame him," she said gently. "You don't usually deal with the family business, so you don't know how bad things have been. East Dock just changed hands, and Customs has been watching the southern route. Luca hasn't slept properly in weeks."

I looked at her. "How do you know all this?"

Her face stiffened for the briefest moment.

Then she smiled, quick and smooth. "I've been helping Luca with some of the transport files. You know I handle reception and port accounts on the outside. It's nothing important. I just do what I can."

She paused, then added, softer, "You never liked this part of the business anyway. I couldn't just stand there and watch him carry it alone."

I had grown up at the Castellano long table, listening to my father and his men discuss cargo ships, campaign money, dock taxes, and committee seats. They thought children didn't understand, so they never bothered to lower their voices around me. By thirteen, I could spot a compromised route from one misplaced number in a ledger.

I wasn't useless.

I had only stopped touching that world after I left my family.

And Luca had been happy to keep it that way.

"With me, Selene," he used to say, "you get to live a normal life."

Back then, I thought he was protecting me.

The front door opened before Luca could speak again.

Agnes stepped into the entryway, her worn handbag clutched to her chest and rain dampening the edges of her hair. She froze when she saw all of us still standing there.

"Mr. Moretti. Ma'am." She gave an awkward little smile. "Sorry. I got downstairs and realized I left my ticket in the room."

Luca's expression darkened. "I thought you were already off for the holiday."

"I'll only be a minute." Agnes hurried toward the kitchen drawer, flustered. She rummaged around for a while, then looked up as if something had just come back to her. "Sir, when you leave for Amalfi tomorrow, ask the driver to pack a few light coats. Miss Vanessa said on the balcony the other day that the sea wind gets cold at night."

The apartment went silent.

Vanessa's face changed.

"Agnes," she said tightly, "you heard wrong."

Agnes blinked at her, confused. "I don't think so. You said the white dress had to be sent to the villa early so the sea breeze wouldn't wrinkle it. Oh, and you told Mr. Moretti not to forget the pearl earrings because you wanted them for the photos."

Luca's face went cold.

"Agnes, you're tired," he said quietly. "Get your things and go."

Only then did Agnes seem to realize she had said too much. Her lips parted, but she swallowed the rest and lowered her head.

Vanessa's eyes reddened almost instantly. She turned to me, her voice thin and wounded. "Selene, you don't really believe that, do you? Agnes mixes things up all the time."

She reached for my hand, as if proving she had nothing to hide.

I stepped away.

Her hand hung there for a second before she lowered it, tears gathering in her eyes.

Luca frowned. "Selene, don't take a servant's gossip seriously. Vanessa is coming with me because of the southern route. She handles those contacts now."

I nodded. "I know."

He studied my face, then seemed to relax. When he spoke again, that old confidence was back in his voice. "When I come back, I'll meet your family properly. It's about time they understood Moretti isn't a name they can look down on anymore."

I looked at him and almost smiled.

He still thought all I had behind me were a few distant Castellano relatives with old money and bad tempers.

"Fine," I said. "I'll wait for you to come back."