When the Wrong Wife Walked Away

BIANCA

Vincenzo's eyes widened in shock. His jaw dropped as he struggled to comprehend what I had just said.

"What are you talking about?" he asked with a scoff. Maybe he thought I was joking.

My voice was sharp as I delivered the words I had been longing to say for years. "You heard me. I'm done. And I want the pact dissolved too."

He chuckled, but his eyes betrayed his anger. "You can't be serious," he sneered. "Where do you think you're going to go? You carry the Ravello name now. The Commission bound you to me. There's no walking out of that."

I shot him a cold smile. "We're only bound by paper and a handshake between old men. You never claimed me, never made me yours in any way that mattered. And even if we were bound by more than papers, I'd still want out. I deserve better than to be treated like one of the kitchen help."

His jaw tightened. I could see the muscles in his neck strain with restrained anger. His right hand flexed at his side, and one by one his knuckles cracked against his thumb. "You should be grateful I married you at all. Half the women in this territory would kill to stand where you're standing."

I heaved a deep sigh. "You've renounced me, what, five times now? And every time, you've made it painfully clear that you want nothing to do with me. This is why I'm dumping your ass."

He gave me a smoldering glare. Another knuckle cracked, slow and deliberate, in the too-quiet room. "You ungrateful little brat. You really think you can leave me after everything I've done for you?"

"You didn't do anything for me, Vincenzo," I said, my voice firm. "You didn't marry me for love, or even for lust. You married me for the name. For the blood in my veins that your Family needed."

I remembered the first time we met, how he had stepped in when the sons of a rival crew had cornered me, mocking the fallen Falcone name my father had left me with nothing but debts and enemies to inherit.

At that moment, I had been captivated by his strength, the ease with which he made grown men lower their eyes and back away. He had looked at me with a softness I had never seen before, and I had felt my heart flutter with admiration and something deeper.

Little did I know that that moment of kindness would be the only one I would ever experience from him.

As the old men of the Commission had explained to me, I was the last true daughter of the Falcone bloodline, a name that still commanded respect at every sit-down, still called in old debts a generation later. They said an alliance mattered to the stability of both houses. They chose me to be the future Donna of the Ravello Family. And beyond politics, everyone whispered that Vincenzo and I were meant to be joined.

At the time, I had already harbored feelings for him. The prospect of standing at his side, of building something that would outlast us both, made me foolish with hope.

I had thought the marriage would bring us closer together. Instead, it only seemed to drive us further apart. He resented me, reminding me every day that he felt trapped. I was just a living reminder of an obligation the Commission had forced on him.

Vincenzo believed I had whispered in the ears of the old men to force his hand. He said I was hungry for power. He thought I only wanted to be a Don's wife for the title and the standing it carried. But that couldn't be further from the truth.

I loved him, truly and deeply. But it was clear his heart belonged to Gemma alone.

Gemma had been his woman before he ever laid eyes on me, and her disappearance had left him hollow. A rival Family had taken her in some old feud, and he had searched for her for years and turned up nothing. But now she was back. And it was clear she had no intention of letting me stand in her way.

Vincenzo wanted her too, and the thought stung. Every lonely night, I had endured the ache alone. I couldn't even seek comfort in anyone else's arms, because he was my husband and I loved him.

But now I realized that love wasn't enough, and that I had been a fool.

"I'll have the papers ready to dissolve the pact in a few days," I said, turning to leave.

Vincenzo's voice stopped me. "You'll never survive without me, Bianca. Have you forgotten your own people practically sold you off to me? Your family doesn't give a damn about you."

I swallowed hard, because he was right. I couldn't make reckless decisions on emotion alone. If I dared set foot back among what was left of my father's people, they'd turn me away at the door. I would manage a few more days, until the papers were finalized. Then I would go across the water, far from him and everyone else. I didn't mind being cut loose from every Family at this point. Let them call me a woman with no protection. It was better than this.

Gemma, who had stepped out to use the restroom, sauntered back into the room just then. It was what she wore around her neck that caught my attention. A rare, priceless piece that had been passed down through the Family for generations.

The necklace was a stunning thing, diamonds and pearls that caught the light with every breath she took. I remembered my mother telling me about it, how it was meant to be worn only by the Don's wife. But Vincenzo had never given it to me. Instead, it seemed, he had saved it for Gemma.

"I found this in your room," Gemma said, her voice husky as she gazed up at Vincenzo. Her fingers slid up to the stones at her throat and stroked them slowly. "I hope you don't mind me wearing it."

His face grew soft, and he looked at her with so much adoration. "You look beautiful," he said, his voice low. "Just like a princess."

Her smile was radiant as she reached up to touch the necklace again. "So, I can keep it?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Vincenzo nodded, his smile matching hers. "Of course. You can have anything you want. You only have to think of it, and it's yours."

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for a long, deliberate kiss. And there I was, watching them like a fool.

I turned to walk away, unable to bear the sight of them. But Vincenzo's voice stopped me.

"Bianca, wait," he called sharply. "I just remembered Gemma's bags are still in the trunk of the car. Go get them for her."

I turned back, my brows drawn together in confusion. "What are her bags doing in the trunk?"

Gemma's smile was smug as she twisted a strand of her burgundy hair around one finger. "I'm moving in with you two. Isn't that lovely?"

I forced a smile, my heart burning with pain inside. My thumb found the bare spot on my ring finger where a band should have sat, and I pressed it there. "Yeah," I said in a soft whisper. "That's... great."