Chapter 3

I drifted in the still air of the boutique, my eyes brimming with tears, still clinging to the hope that Vittorio might remember what we had once been to each other and refuse her.

And he did hesitate, saying almost on instinct, "That doesn't seem right, does it?"

"It's her mother's keepsake. It only came in because it needed cleaning. If she found out, she'd never let me hear the end of it."

But Carmela clung to his arm and wouldn't let go. "Oh, come on, don't be so stingy."

"I only want to try it on. I'll take it right off after. It's not like I won't give it back."

"You don't tell, I don't tell, and no one on any street will ever know."

"And if you say no, I'll just run to the boys and tell on you. Say the great Farlone heir would throw over his own for a woman."

With that, she smiled and simply told the clerk to bring out the gown.

When the clerk shot Vittorio a questioning look, the kind a servant gives before crossing a line that belongs to a Family, his expression froze for a beat. And yet he nodded.

In barely ten minutes, Carmela had changed into the dress and appeared before him, veil and all.

Vittorio blanked for an instant, then smiled. "Not bad. It suits you."

"I almost thought you were the one I was about to marry."

Carmela let out a soft laugh and suddenly pressed a hand over his mouth, her voice low. "Don't say things like that. If Adriana heard, she'd get petty again."

"Back when you and I split, I already made up my mind. All those years we had together can't just be buried like nothing. Even if we can't be lovers for life, we'll be good to each other for life."

Vittorio looked at her, long and deep, some feeling in his eyes I couldn't name. But to me, every bit of it was a knife driving into my heart.

They were still lost in that murky, unspoken mood between them when the clerk took a phone call, and her face suddenly changed. She turned to Vittorio, clearly uneasy, the way people go careful when a name that carries weight comes down the line.

"Mr. Farlone, could you please have your companion take off this gown? The Marchettis just called. They want the dress back."

Carmela's face soured, and Vittorio arched a brow, displeased. "Wasn't it Adriana herself who wanted this gown as the main dress for the union? Why is she going back on it now?"

"The sit-down's almost here. Every Family will be watching. Can't she stop changing her mind on a whim? All this back and forth doesn't wear her out, but it sure wears me out."

The clerk stiffened, startled, and stammered, "Mr. Farlone, I think you've misunderstood."

"The Marchettis just called to say Miss Marchetti's body was recovered from the water a little while ago, so there's no more need for this gown…"

For a single instant, Vittorio froze.

He grabbed the clerk by the collar, roaring, out of control. "What did you say!"

The clerk's face crumpled, and she kept clasping her hands, pleading. "Mr. Farlone, please, my condolences, but it really was the Marchettis who called. I wouldn't dare lie to a man like you."

I watched Vittorio stand rooted there, disbelief and shock flickering in his eyes, his whole body gone rigid.

But Carmela's eyes darted, quick, calculating, and she suddenly pulled out her phone, playing a video for him as she spoke. "Vittorio, don't listen to their nonsense. Adriana isn't dead at all!"

"Don't believe me? Look!"

Following his gaze, I saw it clearly on Carmela's phone: a recording of a call, me griping to my closest friend.

On the call, I complained, "I honestly can't stand that pack of hangers-on Vittorio keeps around him, especially that Carmela!"

"They talk all this brotherhood, all this famiglia, but who knows what they're really after. Do they think I'm a fool?"

"One of these days, I'll make them pay. I'll make Vittorio regret it for the rest of his life!"

My friend threw out an idea too. "Why don't you take a page from those old stories and fake your own death, make a real big scene of it?"