You Always Make Me Wait

The night before I was supposed to stand beside Lucius Corleone at the altar and become his wife, he sent me a message.

Sienna was pregnant. According to the family code, her child would be the first legitimate heir to the Corleone name.

So Lucius ordered me to leave Sicily for three years—and tell everyone I had broken our contract first.

For eight years, I had been his shadow.

I wiped away his blood, buried his crimes, protected his business, and waited for the day he would finally bring me into the light.

But now, he said Sienna belonged in the sunlight.

I stared at the message, my hands still burning from scrubbing away the evidence of his latest murder.

Then I typed back one word.

"Understood."

A second later, Sienna's official wedding announcement appeared on the Corleone family's private network.

Apparently, she couldn't even wait until morning to wear my ring.

There was no long caption, only one cold line: "For the future of the Corleone family."

In the comment section, Lucius's men were already flooding the post with likes. The same people who used to lower their eyes when I entered a room were now congratulating the Don for finally securing a proper family alliance. Not a single soul mentioned me.

As if the past eight years of blood and war had never happened. As if a woman named Rhea had never dragged him out of the filth and kept him alive.

Sitting in the room surrounded by chemical vials, I double-tapped the post with a blank stare.

My comment read: "Congratulations. May the Corleone family get exactly what it deserves."

In less than sixty seconds, my comment vanished. Lucius's encrypted call came through almost immediately, his voice heavy with the authority of a man used to being obeyed: "Rhea, what the hell are you playing at? Dropping a comment right now—are you trying to make the Council look more closely at you?"

I breathed in the humid air left by the summer storm, my voice entirely flat: "I'm not playing at anything, Lucius. I am simply fulfilling my final duty as your partner. I am congratulating you on finally finding someone clean enough to stand beside you."

Accustomed to my absolute submission, Lucius immediately assumed I was lashing out in jealousy: "Everyone knows tomorrow night was supposed to be our wedding. You popping up now is just a petty move to make everyone think Sienna is a homewrecker breaking the rules, isn't it?"

His breathing turned sharp and ragged. "Go apologize to Sienna! Your little comment upset her so badly that she won't stop having abdominal cramps!"

Through the receiver, a woman's fragile sobbing bled into the line: "Lucius, don't blame Rhea... It's my fault. I shouldn't have gotten pregnant at a time like this. I'll get rid of the baby right now. Even if I can never be a mother again, I won't let the family's honor suffer..."

Lucius's voice softened instantly, with a tenderness he had never once given me: "Sienna, you are not a rule-breaker. What you brought to this family is hope. Tomorrow night, once the priest finishes the vows, you will be my official wife, recognized by the Council and the Church." Then, his voice snapped back to a freezing edge, "Ignore people whose hands are caked in blood. If anyone dares mock you, I will personally cut out their tongue."

He turned his focus back to me, a chilling warning dripping from his words: "Rhea, stop pretending you can't hear me. Apologize to Sienna right now!"

I gripped my collar, where a faint, stubborn stain of Lucius's dried blood still lingered.

"And if I refuse?"

He let out a sharp gasp, his voice pitching higher as if he had just encountered a shocking betrayal: "Rhea, you look utterly pathetic right now! Sienna is carrying my child. She is scared enough already, and you still had to provoke her?"

"Fine. Don't apologize. But you will make up for this with your actions—publish a statement to everyone immediately saying that you grew tired of this life and asked to end the engagement yourself!"