Chapter 2

Bianca pointed at me as if she'd suddenly figured everything out.

"Now I understand."

Her voice rose, carrying easily across the dining room.

"I was wondering why anyone would make such a scene over one plate of food. You didn't come here because of the fish. You came here because of my man."

She gave me a slow once-over, then laughed.

"Let me save you the trouble. My man is loyal. He wouldn't look twice at a woman like you."

Before I could answer, Bianca pulled out her phone and started recording.

"Everyone, take a good look at this woman."

More guests turned toward us.

"She brings an old woman into my club, orders food, then complains that it's frozen and overpriced because she doesn't want to pay. And when that doesn't work, she starts asking for my man."

Bianca turned the camera toward my face.

"Can you believe it? She actually said she'd wait for him to come deal with her personally."

She smiled into the screen.

"I'm posting this tonight. Women in this city deserve to know what kind of person they're dealing with."

The murmurs around us grew louder.

"If you can't afford the place, why come in?"

"Exactly. You don't walk into someone else's club and start insulting the owner."

"And asking for her man on top of it? That's shameless."

Rosa's face flushed with humiliation.

"You... that's not what happened..."

Her breathing had grown uneven. I immediately put a hand against her back.

"Don't argue with them."

Then I turned toward the table and pointed at the untouched dish.

"We ordered braised fish. It was served frozen in the middle. Anyone here can look at it for themselves."

A few people nearby glanced toward the plate.

Tiny crystals of ice were still visible where Rosa had broken the fish apart.

"And after we complained," I continued, "she demanded three thousand dollars."

The room quieted slightly.

I looked back at Bianca.

"We asked for nothing more than what any paying guest has the right to expect. If you think that's unreasonable, then let the man you keep talking about come here and say it himself."

Bianca's smile vanished.

She snapped her fingers.

Several members of the staff immediately moved closer, forming a loose circle around Rosa and me.

Bianca lowered her phone.

When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, but far more threatening.

"Then let me make something clear."

She stepped toward me.

"This club was given to me by my man. I'm the one who runs it. Under this roof, what I say goes."

Her eyes flicked toward the frozen fish.

"I don't care whether that fish came out frozen, burned, or straight from the garbage. If I put it on your table and tell you it costs three thousand dollars, then you pay three thousand dollars."

She paused.

"And after the scene you've caused, money isn't enough anymore."

Bianca pointed toward the floor between us.

"Pay the bill. Apologize to me on your knees. Then maybe I'll let you walk out of here."

I stared at her.

"What's your name?"

The question seemed to catch her off guard.

Then pride returned to her face.

"Bianca Fiore."

My fingers went cold.

Bianca Fiore.

I'd seen that name before.

A few months ago, a package had arrived at our home.

The address was ours, but the recipient wasn't.

Bianca Fiore.

At the time, I'd assumed it was a delivery mistake. But when I opened the box to look for an invoice, I found an expensive set of black lace lingerie inside.

I'd taken it straight to Salvatore.

"Do you know a Bianca Fiore?"

He'd barely looked at the label.

"No."

Then he'd taken the box from my hands and tossed it into the trash.

"Wrong address. Or some stupid marketing trick."

He'd answered so easily that I'd never thought to question him.

Now I understood why.

The package hadn't been delivered to the wrong house.

It had been sent to exactly the right one.

Just for the wrong woman.

Something inside me seemed to go completely still.

The club.

The lies.

The woman standing in front of me, proudly declaring that Salvatore had given her this place.

Every loose thread suddenly pulled tight.

I looked at Bianca again.

This time, there was no anger in my voice.

"Then I think you should wait for Salvatore."

Bianca narrowed her eyes.

I continued calmly.

"Let him come here and explain exactly who the two women you're threatening are."

Her expression twisted.

"You really are shameless."

She stepped toward me.

"You even went digging for his name?"

I almost laughed.

Beside me, Rosa suddenly gripped my arm.

Her fingers were trembling.

"Francesca..."

I turned.

Her face had gone white.

Until that moment, she'd still been trying to convince herself there had to be some misunderstanding. That perhaps this wasn't really Salvatore's club. That perhaps Bianca's "man" was someone else.

But there was no room left for that now.

Bianca Fiore was standing inside a Moretti establishment, claiming Salvatore had given it to her.

And she had just called Salvatore Moretti her man in front of his mother and his wife.

Rosa pressed one hand against her chest.

"She's talking about my son?"

I covered her trembling hand with mine.

Before I could answer, Bianca gave a contemptuous laugh.

"What now? You're going to pretend you know his mother too?"

I looked at her.

"No."

My voice was quiet.

"She is his mother."