Chapter 3

Adriana's POV

Eventually the pain got to be too much. I couldn't fake my way through it anymore.

I doubled over on the side of the road, crouched low with both arms wrapped around my stomach like that would help. My face was a mess of sweat and tears, and maybe both. I couldn't even tell anymore.

Ten minutes passed before the waves of pain subsided enough for me to breathe, much less stand.

This had to be one of the side effects Don Vitale warned me about when I first agreed to work the Seven Stars cipher. He'd polished that old pocket watch of his the whole time he spoke, the way he did whenever a plan was heading somewhere fatal.

I glanced around. We were out past the edge of Moretti territory, the mountain road empty in both directions. No cars, no phone service worth the name, nobody for miles. Just pines, the cracked asphalt, and the faint taste of blood in my mouth.

Still, I knew how this would go.

If I missed Tessa's birthday party, Lorenzo would pin it on me.

Another strike. Another grudge. Another reason to hate me just a little bit more.

Then I heard a familiar voice and turned toward the phone's screen.

The livestream had started.

Tessa's birthday party was playing in real time, broadcast to half the Families who mattered.

Sal, the wheelman, noticed me staring and tapped the steering wheel twice with his thumb before he spoke, as if knocking to ask permission.

"Kids these days," he muttered. "Love's a sport now. Fireworks, diamonds, a violin flown in from the old country. Must be exhausting, trying to outdo each other in front of everybody."

I didn't say anything.

I glanced up at the phone resting on the dashboard. The video showed Lorenzo fastening a necklace around Tessa's throat, and it wasn't just any necklace.

I recognized it instantly.

Vittorio and Rosaria had asked Lorenzo to photograph it back when it was still under glass, thinking it would be the perfect gift to seal the blood-oath. For me. For us.

Lorenzo took the photo. But instead of giving the necklace to me, he told them straight to their faces:

"The Blue Heart stands for true love. Giving it to Adriana would only tarnish it. You can't force love when it isn't real."

That's what he said, just like that.

The next day, Tessa showed up wearing it like it had always been hers, her smile arriving a half-second too fast, her fingers drifting to the hollow of her throat as if she'd been waiting years for something to hang there.

Vittorio went ballistic.

He came out of his study with the old belt his own father had used on him, ready to bring the young Don down a notch in front of the whole house.

But Lorenzo didn't back down. He let himself get hit and didn't even flinch. He'd rather take the pain than admit he was wrong. That day, he gave Tessa the necklace without hesitation.

And from the way he looked at her now, I think he was proud of it.

I stared at the screen, watching her stand beside him, shy and smiling, like she belonged there. My chest twisted up tight.

The cruelest kind of heartbreak is knowing that the person you love was never yours to begin with. And yet you throw yourself into loving them, like maybe that will change something.

Lorenzo's fingers trembled slightly against the strings, but his eyes never wavered. He played for her like she was the only person in the world. Gentle, steady, completely devoted.

Still, I could see the pain behind those eyes.

And deep down, I knew exactly why.

Years ago, on a winter climb up to the chapel, I slipped and fell. Lorenzo caught me before my head hit the rocks, but doing it, a jagged branch drove clean through the center of his palm. Ten centimeters deep. Ever since, even the slightest pressure could send pain shooting up his whole arm.

When the song ended, he brushed the sweat from his brow and shifted just enough for the scar to show.

Someone nearby noticed. "Hey, Lorenzo, what happened to your hand? That looks nasty."

Another guest laughed. "C'mon, you know the Don. Probably took it saving somebody. Knight in shining armor, that one."

Lorenzo barely looked up. "Oh. I forgot," he said.

Just a quick, flat reply. Detached and distant.

He forgot.

And that broke me.

"Lorenzo's so good to Tessa," someone gushed. "He rented out the whole of Harborview Bay for her. If that isn't real love, what is?"

Of course. Harborview Bay. I should have known.

The place was legendary. Anniversary dinners, proposals, the kind of grand gestures the Families whispered about for years. There's even some old story that if your union is witnessed there, it will last forever.

I used to hint at it to Lorenzo. Sometimes subtly, sometimes not.

He'd just roll his eyes. "God, you're so naive. If love worked like that, people wouldn't end up miserable half the time."

And then the one that stuck. "And besides, what love? Between us? Adriana, you need to stop mixing up fantasy with reality."

I never forgot those words. They haunted me.

Maybe if I'd let go sooner, Lorenzo wouldn't have died carrying so much regret. Maybe I wouldn't have wasted so much time begging fate to fix something it never gave me in the first place.

"That's right," another voice said. "Adriana Rossi needs to take a hint. Lorenzo and Tessa are perfect together. He's got the power, she's got the looks. Honestly, it just makes sense. If she tries to come between them again, karma's coming for her."

I ducked my head and laughed under my breath, bitter and quiet.

Karma. Sure.

I'd probably earned every ounce of it.

Sal heard me sniffling and glanced into the rearview mirror, his voice gentle for a man who drove for killers. "You all right back there, miss?"

I wiped my face and forced a small smile.

"Yeah," I said. "Just one of those cries that helps more than it hurts."

Because that's what it was.

I was crying because Lorenzo got everything he wanted. Because I'd done what I came here to do.

Because even if he never once loved me, I still appreciated the kindness he'd shown me.

...

When I finally got back to the Moretti estate, Rosaria was already standing in the doorway, waiting like she'd been counting the minutes. Sharp as ever, no-nonsense to the bone, the kind of woman men twice her size straightened up for.

"Adriana," she called out, cutting straight to it. "Did you finish the carving? That's not something to be sloppy about. And where's Lorenzo? Why didn't he come back with you?"