Chapter 4

She once told me that people whispered a certain thing about love — that if you truly belonged to someone, you took them to stand beneath the most breathtaking cherry blossoms. That way the image of that person beneath the blooms would be etched into your heart forever, never to fade, never to be replaced.

That day the skies were clear, the breeze off the water just right. She stood under the blossoming canopy, her hand reaching out to me, her smile brighter than spring itself.

My heart skipped a beat. I reached out without thinking, drawn to her as naturally as breath to lungs.

I didn't know if I'd ever made it into her heart that day. But she had already carved herself deep into mine.

While I stood adrift in the memory, Serafina's voice kept echoing at the edge of my awareness. Her words blurred until suddenly, one sentence yanked me back to the present.

"In the face of life and death, true feelings always surface. Don Salvatore and I are arranging a little run out on the water for the four of you. There'll be a staged accident, just a brief moment where you and Dante go over the side. But don't worry. We'll have our own divers standing by beneath the hull. No one will actually get hurt."

"If Adrian chooses to save you, then you stay. You become the cherished son of this Family, made and blessed. But if she chooses Dante, our men will pull you out quiet, no one the wiser. From that moment on, she'll believe you drowned, and we'll bless her and Dante."

I stood there a long moment, frozen like stone, before finally giving a slow nod. She set down her rosary and went completely still, watching me the way a woman watches a thing she already knows the ending of.

After Serafina left, I drifted into the bedroom. My hand reached for a book on the shelf, worn from years of rereading. Slipped between the pages was an old photo, one I hadn't dared look at in a while.

In it, Adrian tilted her head toward me, her smile as radiant as spring sunshine. Her eyes sparkled with joy, unaware of the storm that would someday come.

As for me, I looked straight into the lens. A stiff smile tugged at my lips, but my eyes betrayed me. There was fear in them, nerves I hadn't known how to hide.

My gaze lowered to the line printed faintly in the corner, once my favorite:

"Anyone standing under the cherry tree looks beautiful; my love burns brightly for whoever stands there."

But now that line felt like a cruel joke written just for me.

I picked up the photo, closed the book with quiet finality, and stepped into the study. The shredder whirred to life. I let the photo slip from my fingers, watching it vanish into ribbons. My thumb found my wedding band and turned it a half-turn, though there was nothing left of it to reopen.

Ten days later, Adrian was called home to the Marchetti estate under the guise of a family dinner.

To keep things quiet, she and Dante didn't even arrive together. They slipped through the gates separately, like strangers pretending they weren't bound by the same secret.

The moment she laid eyes on me, Adrian rushed into my arms without a second's hesitation.

"Honey, I missed you so much. These days apart, that run out of territory, they were unbearable."

I lifted a hand between us, quietly stopping her. "Be more proper. Your father and mother are watching."

Only then did she reluctantly loosen her grip, though her fingers still clung to mine like a lifeline. Her thumbnail pressed into the pad of her ring finger.

Only God knew how long Dante had been standing by the door. He finally walked in, eyes sharp with cold disdain, the muscle below his ear working silently. He brushed past us with a scoff, his presence colder than the sea wind coming off the docks.

Adrian frowned. "Honey, don't mind him. My brother's just childish."

I nodded with a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes.

Of course I didn't take it seriously. I didn't need to. Not anymore.

During dinner, Salvatore casually brought up the idea of taking the boat out after the meal. Neither Adrian nor Dante raised an objection.

As we stood on the pier, right before stepping aboard the yacht, I looked down at Adrian's hand in mine. The question I'd buried deep finally rose to the surface.

"If Dante and I both went into the sea," I asked softly, "who would you save first?"

She turned back with a playful smile and tapped the tip of my nose.

"Of course I'd save my husband. My brother can swim just fine."

I smiled, though something inside me tightened.

Adrian, liars always paid the price.

The yacht cut steadily into deeper water, its wake vanishing beneath the endless blue.

On the lower deck, Salvatore and Adrian were fishing, their laughter drifting up now and then with the salt breeze. I made my way to the upper deck, letting the wind brush across my face as I stared into the vast, shimmering horizon. Our destination was getting closer.

Then came a voice behind me, sharp as a knife.

"Rocco. That question you asked Adrian before we boarded. I wanted the answer too. So go to hell."

I had barely turned before a force slammed into my back.

He shoved me hard over the railing.

The sea swallowed me whole.

Moments later I heard a splash. He had gone in after me.

"Help!" Dante's voice tore across the water as he surfaced first, shouting toward the yacht.

I barely broke the surface, coughing and flailing in the waves, only to be met with a brutal kick straight to my chest.

The saltwater burned my throat. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

The moment the pain seared through my chest, my mouth opened against my will and seawater rushed in like punishment. I choked and coughed, but it only dragged me deeper into the abyss.

Just as I fought to rise, another weight pressed down, and someone stepped on my shoulder, shoving me farther beneath the surface. My limbs flailed weakly. By the time I broke through the waves again, I had drifted far from the yacht.

From above, I vaguely heard Serafina's panicked voice ring out.

"Adrian! Hurry! Save Rocco, he can't swim!"

I saw her dive into the water without hesitation.

But she swam straight toward Dante.

He clung to her shoulder like a lifeline, panic smeared across his face.

"Adrian, my leg is cramped. Please, save me first, okay?"

She glanced toward me just once, her eyes flickering with hesitation. Her thumbnail dug into her ring finger even there, in the water.

Then she gritted her teeth and turned away, dragging Dante back toward the boat.

"Rocco, hold on! I'll save my brother first, then I'll come back for you!"

But I had already swallowed too much water. My limbs were heavy and numb. The strength to hold on was slipping through my fingers like wet sand.

After hauling Dante aboard, she didn't dive back in right away.

Dante clung tightly to her hand, refusing to let go.

"Adrian, don't leave me. I'm scared."

Watching the two of them wrestle on deck, I felt my limbs turn to lead. I couldn't move. The cold wrapped around me like chains, dragging me downward.

As the seawater crept over my lips, a strange, ridiculous thought floated to the surface of my fading mind:

'If someone saves me now, I'll swear myself into their bloodline, willingly, and take the ring and the oath and all of it.'

And just like that, a wave slammed into me, silencing the thought.

The tide carried me farther, and my vision blurred as the sea swallowed me whole.