Chapter 3

So, over the past three years, I hadn't just been a shield for the two of them; I'd been the silent vessel carrying the weight of their so-called love, sworn into the Marchetti bloodline to hold a secret that was never mine.

Footsteps echoed quickly down the hallway, the hard sound of a soldier's tread on old stone. I folded the design sketch without hesitation and slipped it into the hidden compartment of the suitcase.

Moments later, the door creaked open. Adrian's eyes flicked toward the suitcase, anxiety flashing across her face.

"Hubby, you didn't see anything, did you?"

I looked at her calmly, wearing a mask of confusion.

"See what?"

She pressed her thumbnail into the pad of her ring finger, then gave a sheepish laugh, trying too hard to sound light.

"Oh, nothing. Let me help you pack."

Once the luggage was zipped shut, she clung to me at the doorway like a child afraid of the dark, dragging out the farewell with misty eyes and soft pleas. Only after her tearful performance did she finally walk away, her heels fading down the marble of the compound.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I slipped off the ring and placed it gently into its box. The pale impression it left on my finger stared back at me like a quiet wound.

It's alright, I told myself. All scars fade with time, some slower than others.

Not long after Adrian left, the Marchetti matriarch showed up unannounced. No knock, no warning. Serafina moved through this house the way the Don's own shadow did, and the associates in the corridor stood a little straighter as she passed.

The moment she spoke, her words knocked the breath out of me.

"Rocco, are you suddenly planning to leave because of Dante?"

I couldn't bring myself to say yes, but I didn't have it in me to say no either.

My silence seemed to weigh heavier than any words could. Her sigh, long and weary, sounded even more burdened than the Don's had ever been.

"To be honest," she began softly, "we owe you an apology."

She looked away, her voice laced with guilt.

"Three years ago, her father and I started noticing how close Adrian and Dante had become. It is too close, closer than kin should be. So we thought, maybe if someone else came into the picture, it'd shift things back to where they should've been."

She paused for a breath as though the memory itself drained her.

"They're not blood-related, but they grew up under the same roof, both of them raised as Marchettis. And if we'd allowed those feelings to fester, forget the Family's name, the whispers alone would've destroyed them both. They were too young to understand what love really means."

"That's why we pushed you to marry Adrian, why Salvatore sealed the alliance with his own hand. Even when Dante ran off in anger and left the territory, we let him go. We thought it was the only way to help them let go of those feelings."

She looked at me then, eyes rimmed with regret.

"These past three years, watching you and Adrian, seeing how you treated her like she was your whole world, we really believed we'd made the right choice. But now Dante is back, and it's like everything we tried to bury is clawing its way up again."

As she spoke, she reached out and gently took my hand. Her palm was warm and steady, as if trying to comfort both of us.

"Rocco, you claim you never had feelings for Adrian. That might fool her father, but it doesn't fool me. The way you look at her, those eyes don't lie."

Her thumb brushed over the back of my hand and her voice dropped to something more tender.

"I honestly believe Adrian has feelings for you too. If she didn't, would she have treated you the way she did these past three years? Always shielding you, always thinking of you first? That kind of devotion doesn't come from nothing."

Just then, my phone buzzed twice, cutting through the stillness like a stone tossed into calm water.

I glanced at the screen. A message from Adrian lit it up like a flame that refused to die.

[Hubby, have you eaten? I miss you so much. Do you miss me?]

Serafina's eyes caught the glow of it, and her smile widened.

"See? Didn't I tell you? She does care for you more than you think."

Before her voice even faded into silence, a notification lit up my screen.

It was a social media post, an update from Dante's alternate account.

[Damn weather! I finally got to take my beloved sister to see the cherry blossoms. What happened? The sky tricks them into blooming early, only for them to fall within three days. We missed it completely. So heartbroken!]

The photo attached stung more than the words: two hands intertwined beneath a rain-kissed cherry blossom tree, its petals already scattered like broken promises. On the wrist in the frame sat the delicate watch and the marriage band I knew too well.

Serafina's face darkened the moment she saw it. Her eyes locked onto the screen and froze on that band wrapped around Adrian's wrist. Her hand went to the rosary at her side, and then she set it down and went very still.

"This wicked girl…"

I didn't speak. What was the point? Scenes like these had become a routine, repeated enough to numb me. My thumb turned the ring a half-turn where it still sat in my mind, though it lay boxed on the dresser now.

She let out a sigh that carried the weight of too many regrets.

"Rocco, if you truly want to leave, I won't stand in your way. There's no easy walking away from this Family, you know that. But at least give Adrian and yourself one last chance."

I stayed quiet. But somewhere deep in my mind, a memory stirred.

The first spring of our alliance, Adrian had once taken me clear across territory lines, past everything that wasn't ours, just to chase the cherry blossoms.