Chapter 2

"Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if we lost this place."

Damiano leaned one shoulder against the doorway, a faint smile playing on his lips as he looked around the villa we had shared inside the Valenti estate.

"Once we're married, I'll have a new house built for us. Not inside the compound." His eyes settled on me with quiet confidence. "Something bigger. More secure. Somewhere no one can interfere with us. You'll like it."

As he spoke, his gaze lingered on my face, as though he were already picturing the life we were supposed to build together. Every few moments, he looked back at me, waiting for the smile he was certain those promises would bring.

I noticed every glance.

I simply acted as though I hadn't.

There had been a time when hearing him talk about our future would've made me happier than any expensive gift he could've given me.

Now, I couldn't even bring myself to pretend.

I had no tears left to waste on him.

The silence between us gradually erased the smile from his face. He could tell I was still upset, but he made no real effort to make things right. In his mind, the handful of reassuring words he'd offered tonight were already more patience than he'd shown me in months.

Eventually, he loosened his tie and headed upstairs to shower.

Not long after he disappeared, the encrypted phone lying on the coffee table lit up.

Once.

Then again.

And again.

Its screen kept flashing with incoming notifications until it became impossible to ignore.

I reached over and unlocked it.

There was no passcode.

He had never bothered to hide anything because he had always believed I trusted him enough not to look.

The notifications came from a secure cloud folder connected to the family's private server.

Someone had just finished uploading old files.

I opened it.

Hundreds of photographs.

Hundreds of videos.

Every one of them featured Damiano and Sofia.

Some showed them attending Mafia banquets together, dressed in matching black evening wear that made them look every bit like a couple receiving guests on behalf of the family.

Others had been taken during overseas business trips. They wandered through unfamiliar streets shoulder to shoulder, laughing over cups of coffee, shopping together in luxury boutiques, or sharing late-night meals after meetings with foreign syndicates.

There were even candid photographs taken inside the Valenti estate itself.

Sofia was adjusting Damiano's tie before a Commission meeting.

Damiano was helping her fasten a diamond necklace before a charity gala hosted by the city's most influential families.

In every picture, his expression was patient.

Relaxed.

Warm.

The ache spreading through my chest grew heavier with each swipe across the screen.

So this was the truth.

The impatience he always reserved for me simply didn't exist when it came to Sofia.

I remembered dragging him through Milan's fashion district two years ago because I wanted him to help me choose a wedding dress.

He hadn't lasted fifteen minutes.

"They're all white," he'd said with obvious irritation. "Pick whichever one you want."

That dismissive expression remained as clear in my memory as if it had happened yesterday.

Back then, I convinced myself he simply hated shopping.

Now I knew better.

He had never hated shopping.

He had only hated doing it with me.

"What are you doing?"

His voice cut through the silence.

I looked up.

Damiano had already come downstairs, his hair still damp from the shower, the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled to his forearms.

The moment he saw the phone in my hand, his expression darkened.

He crossed the room in three long strides and snatched it away with enough force that I lost my balance.

The back of my knees struck the edge of the sofa before I fell against it.

"Have you completely forgotten the rules?" he demanded.

His voice was low, but every word carried the authority of the Valenti family's underboss.

"Those files contain confidential family records."

His grip had scraped across the back of my hand, leaving a thin cut where the sharp edge of his watch had caught my skin.

A bead of blood slowly surfaced.

I lowered my eyes to it.

The truth was, even if he hadn't walked in just then, I wouldn't have kept looking.

I'd already seen enough.

Months ago, I'd stumbled across that same cloud folder by accident.

Since then, there had been countless sleepless nights when I secretly opened it after he'd fallen asleep beside me.

I watched every photograph.

Every video.

Every smiling glance they thought no one else had noticed.

By dawn, my eyes would be swollen from crying.

Yet when Damiano woke, I'd smile and pretend I'd simply slept badly.

Looking back now, I could only laugh at myself.

For seven years, I had been the only one chasing this relationship.

Every phone call began with me.

Every apology came from me.

Every compromise was mine to make.

Most of the time, he answered with a few distracted words before ending the conversation because another meeting, another shipment, or another family matter demanded his attention.

I treasured those scraps of affection as though they were enough.

In the end, all I'd done was make a fool of myself.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"I won't touch your phone again."

He didn't speak.

It was obvious he'd expected tears.

Or another argument.

Not surrender.

After a long silence, he finally said, "Those pictures..."

He hesitated before continuing.

"Sofia hates attending public events alone. The family kept pairing us together because it looked better politically."

His tone softened.

"Before Marco died, he asked me to look after her if anything ever happened to him."

"Don't overthink it."

I simply listened.

Marco.

Sofia's older brother.

He and Damiano had grown up together inside the Valenti organization.

Years ago, when Damiano was still nothing more than a captain overseeing one of the family's dock operations, Marco had taken a bullet meant for him during negotiations with a rival syndicate.

He died before the medical team reached the warehouse.

With his last breath, he had made Damiano promise that Sofia would never be left alone.

Damiano had kept that promise.

Far better than he'd ever kept the promises he'd made to me.

What had started as protection gradually became habit.

Then responsibility.

Then something that occupied every corner of his life until there was no room left for the woman he was supposed to marry.

I drew in a slow breath.

Only three days remained before I returned to the Vitale family.

There was no point pretending anymore.

"You don't have to explain anything to me," I said softly.

"The truth is..." I lifted my eyes to meet his. "If you decided to marry Sofia instead, I think that would probably make everyone happier."

The slap came without warning.

My head snapped to one side.

The sting spread across my cheek almost instantly.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Damiano's voice thundered through the room.

"Sofia is my brother's sister. I've looked after her because I gave Marco my word."

His eyes blazed with anger.

"Do you really think she'd betray his memory like that?"

My cheek burned.

I slowly turned back to face him.

Of course she wouldn't.

She wasn't the pathetic woman who had spent seven years believing love alone could earn a place beside the man she loved.

That fool had always been me.

My vision blurred.

Before the tears could fall, I caught the flicker of regret that crossed Damiano's face.

His shoulders stiffened.

"I..."

His voice lost its edge.

"I shouldn't have hit you."

"I'm sorry."

For one brief moment, I wanted to tell him everything.

Damiano...

I'm leaving.

The words rose to my throat.

Before I could say them, the encrypted phone in his hand vibrated sharply.

The screen lit up with Sofia's name.

He answered immediately.

Her frightened voice came through the speaker before he could switch to private mode.

"Damiano..." she whispered between shaky breaths. "I had that nightmare again... about Marco's death."

"I'm scared."

"Can you come over?"

"I don't want to stay here by myself."