Chapter 3

Later, he told me he stood there watching me for five whole minutes.

"You were smiling in your sleep," he said. "I wanted to know what you were dreaming about."

That was the first thing he ever said to me.

Seven years together, and I buried The Velvet Room deep.

Not because I was ashamed. Because I knew—in his world, nobody listens to your side.

You say, "I only poured drinks," and they hear, "So you were a hooker."

I thought I'd buried it deep enough.

Until the night before the wedding.

Dante took a call in his study. His voice was low, but I could hear every word through the door.

"You saw something? Vanessa gave it to you?"

"…Just a few photos. I already knew she'd worked in a place like that. You don't need to remind me, Ma."

He hung up. Opened the door. Saw me standing there.

He said nothing. Just reached out and ruffled my hair.

"Get some sleep."

That was the moment my gut told me — tomorrow's wedding was going to blow up.

But I didn't ask.

Seven years, and I never asked him a single thing about The Velvet Room.

I was scared. One question, and everything would shatter.

Turns out it shattered anyway. In front of five hundred people. Into dust.

By morning my head was still full of static.

Dante hauled me over to the Moretti estate for the "welcome" — the family's version of a sit-down where the new wife is presented to the Donna.

His mother sat in a high-backed chair like a queen on a throne. A pretty girl stood next to her.

I'd seen her picture before. Vanessa. Vanessa Chiara.

An old family friend. Chiara blood. The kind of girl Donna Moretti had always wanted for her son.

When I knelt down and offered her the little cup of espresso—a family tradition—Donna Moretti didn’t take it.

“Stay right there,” she said, slowly running the rosary beads through her fingers.

“Dante chose to marry you. Fine. I couldn’t stop him. But now that you’re part of this family, you’ll play by my rules.”

"One. Once you're inside this family, your past is dead. Nobody talks about it. If anyone asks, you keep your mouth shut. Can't manage that yourself? I'll manage it for you."

"Two. Vanessa is like a daughter to me. She and Dante grew up together. You marry in, fine — but stay out of her way."

Stay out of her way?

The cup shook in my hands.

Vanessa gave a soft little sniff. "Auntie, what are you saying? She's my pure, innocent sister-in-law."

She bit down hard on the word *pure*.

Her eyes screamed the opposite.

Donna Moretti patted her hand, doting.

I held the cup out for what felt like an hour. My arm was burning.

Finally, she reached for it.

I thought, Thank God. She’s finally going to drink it.

The next second—

Splash.

Hot espresso hit me square in the face.

"Welcome to the family. Now get out."

In the car back, I didn't say a word from the backseat.

Dante drove one-handed, glancing at me in the rearview.

"Cat got your tongue?"

I shook my head.

"You’re mad over *that*? Baby, that’s nothing—"

"I'm fine," I said.

I wasn't fine. I was thinking that maybe this whole thing needed to end.

That night, I sat on the edge of the bed with my eyes wide open until dawn.

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