Chapter 1

In all of New York, I was the only wife of a Don to get stood up at my own wedding fifty-two times.

The first time, the ceremonial gunfire at our wedding triggered a panic attack in Lorenzo's widowed sister-in-law, Sera, reminding her of the day her husband died.

Lorenzo made me change out of my wedding dress and stay with her at the old house for three days until she recovered.

The second time, our wedding motorcade had barely left the estate when Sera called Lorenzo for help, claiming that members of a rival family had surrounded her.

Lorenzo turned the entire convoy around and carried her into the hospital himself.

After that, his brother's widow had a new crisis before every single wedding.

And every time, Lorenzo would pull me into his arms and explain in a low voice,

"Matteo took a bullet for me. I promised him I would take care of her."

"Erin, you are the woman I love. She is only my responsibility. Don't make a big deal out of a grieving widow."

After the fifty-second time, I finally understood.

There was no future in waiting for a man like him.

I was going to give him up.

In seven days, I would leave for Sicily.

Chapter 1

The fifty-first time Lorenzo stood me up at the altar, he was attending the Moretti Family's celebration for securing the North Harbor shipping route.

Sera had planned the entire evening for him.

Every guest who did not know the truth mistook her for Lorenzo's wife, the true matriarch of the Moretti Family.

"Don Moretti, North Harbor was the route Matteo wanted more than anything."

"It is only right that you and Mrs. Moretti accept tonight's toast together."

A chorus of agreement swept through the ballroom.

Lorenzo did not correct them. Instead, he let Sera take the chair at his right - the seat traditionally reserved for the wife of the Don.

I had been legally married to him for three years, yet our marriage had never been made public.

To everyone in the room, I was only his Underboss, stationed at the far end of the ballroom to watch every entrance and exit.

Crystal chandeliers glittered above a tower of champagne. Sera sat at Lorenzo's right hand.

I stood for four straight hours without so much as a chair.

When the celebration ended, I slipped out early to keep our relationship hidden and waited for him at the intersection behind the hotel.

An armored black sedan eased to the curb. The window lowered, revealing Sera asleep in the back seat.

Lorenzo looked at me with tired eyes, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever.

"A waiter dropped a glass. The sound took her back to the night Matteo was shot."

"I need to take her to the old house first. Ride in the guards' car behind us."

I lowered my eyes and said nothing.

Lorenzo's private car was reserved for members of the Moretti Family.

Two years ago, when he had just become Don, several North Harbor Capos had joined forces against him.

I spent six hours in a blizzard negotiating the cease-fire that secured his first foothold there.

By the time I left the warehouse, my shoulder wound had split open, blood soaking through my shirt.

Lorenzo was sitting inside that same car. But all he did was reach through the open window and squeeze my hand.

"You can handle this, Erin. You always have."

"The Family doctor is on his way. I have to take Sera home first. She cannot bear the sound of gunfire."

The doctor was trapped outside the city by road closures that night.

I waited alone in the abandoned warehouse for four hours, shaking so hard from the cold that I could no longer hold my gun.

When I finally made it home, Lorenzo stayed beside me all night.

He changed my dressings himself, kissed my fingertips, and told me how sorry he was.

I knew his love for me was real.

But whenever Sera and I needed him at the same time, I was always the one he left behind.

I forced a small smile and kept my voice steady.

"Are you still coming to our wedding tomorrow?"

Lorenzo hesitated.

"Sera is in bad shape tonight. I need to stay at the old house with her."

"I will not have time to prepare in the morning. Can we postpone it?"

Cold spread through my chest, but I nodded anyway.

"All right."

After a pause, I took a set of papers from my handbag and held them through the open window.

"Then sign these Family documents for me."

Perhaps guilt made him careless. Lorenzo did not even glance at the cover before taking my pen and signing his name.

The Moretti crest was stamped in black at the lower right corner of every page.

When he handed the papers back, his voice softened.

"I will bring you a chestnut cake from that bakery in Little Italy tomorrow."

"Don't be angry with me, Erin."

I looked at him.

In the end, I said nothing.

The armored sedan merged into the New York night, its taillights disappearing within seconds.

...

Lorenzo returned to the estate around noon the following day.

He shrugged off his rain-darkened overcoat and pulled Matteo's pocket watch, which Sera had left behind, from one of the pockets.

Then he stopped. His eyes found mine in the mirror as I sat at the edge of our bed.

"What did you have me sign last night?"

I looked up. A complicated emotion flickered across my face before I smoothed it away.

"You did not ask when you signed. Why remember now?"

"Sera was shaking so badly that I could not focus on anything else."

He crossed the room, crouched in front of me, and took my hands.

"Besides, you are my wife. Why would I ever think you would use a piece of paper to hurt me?"

I dropped my gaze, hiding the ache in my eyes.

"What if they were divorce papers? What if I'd had you sign away every asset held by the Moretti Family?"

His grip tightened at once.

For the first time, alarm broke cleanly across his face.

"Do not joke about that."

He cupped my face and brushed his thumb beneath my eye.

"You know how much I love you."

"If you left me, I would lose my mind."

"If I had to choose, I would rather let you take every last thing the Morettis own."

The love in his eyes was real. There was no doubt in it.

I knew he meant it when he said he loved me. I knew he meant it when he said he could not live without me.

But my question the night before had been real too.

What Lorenzo had signed was a marital settlement and written consent for an uncontested divorce.

Five years at his side. Three years as his secret wife.

Lorenzo and I were finally coming to an end.

Chapter 2

That afternoon, I went to the Family council room and handed my resignation as Underboss to Anthony, the Consigliere.

Anthony looked up from the signature, his composure slipping for the first time.

"Erin, are you certain about this?"

"You have been with the Don longer than anyone. Half the Moretti Family's routes and alliances passed through your hands."

"We have always said that even if every Capo deserted him, you never would."

"Why now?"

He left the question unfinished. I lowered my eyes.

Until the night before, I had believed the same thing.

Before Lorenzo became Don, all the Moretti Family had left were three failing clubs and one waterfront pier that someone was always trying to seize.

I worked the city beside him, block by block. I sat through negotiation after negotiation and audited ledger after ledger.

When we acquired our first legitimate stake in a casino, Lorenzo spent his first cut buying out a restaurant on the fifty-fourth floor of a Manhattan tower.

That night, with the city's traffic streaming far below us, he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

He said the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him was finding me at his side.

Then Matteo died taking a bullet meant for him.

Lorenzo became Don, and I became his public Underboss.

Everyone knew I was his sharpest blade.

No one knew I was also his wife.

I gave Anthony a faint smile.

"The Family rules allow the Underboss to step down. I have made my decision."

Anthony watched me with open regret.

"Then all I can do is wish you well - and hope you stay safe."

I thanked him quietly and left the council room.

The moment I returned to my office, my phone chimed.

Sera had posted another story visible only to me.

In the photograph, Lorenzo was asleep in an armchair in the old house. Sera sat across from him by the fireplace, his black overcoat draped over her shoulders. Matteo's pocket watch rested on the table between them.

The caption read: Dreamed about Matteo again last night. Thank God someone stayed with me until morning.

As if there were any chance I might miss it, she had tagged me in the photo.

This was not the first time.

Three out of every ten stories came with my name attached. For the other seven, she used her privacy settings to make me the only viewer.

There were no kisses, no embraces, nothing openly inappropriate.

She simply told me the same thing over and over.

The man who made me wait all night would come running the moment she called.

Lorenzo and I had fought about it before.

Each time, he would hold me and speak with patient finality.

"There is nothing between Sera and me."

"She is Matteo's widow. I owe him my life."

"You are my wife, and you understand me better than anyone. Do not make me choose between the two of you."

Lorenzo trusted my love. He trusted my strength.

So he saved every hurt for the woman least likely to break.

I switched off my phone, though the weight on my chest did not lift.

Then I heard two guards speaking in low voices outside my office.

"Mrs. Moretti is here."

"The Don said to send her straight in. He'd had his office cleared."

I looked up.

Sera came down the hall, heels clicking, and went into Lorenzo's office.

A moment later, the blinds came down, cutting the room off from view.

They were discussing a private safe Matteo had left in Sicily. No one else was permitted to listen.

Not even me, his Underboss.

My gaze dropped, and the past rose before me without warning.

Years ago, I had intercepted an attack meant for Lorenzo. Flying glass had torn my arm open.

Behind those same blinds, he had bandaged the wound himself.

He pressed his forehead to mine, his voice rough.

"When the dust settles, I swear all of New York will know you are my wife."

I had believed that promise again and again.

Again and again, I had sat in an empty church and put away the ring that never made it onto my finger.

I touched the divorce settlement and my resignation inside my bag.

There would be no next time.

Chapter 3

Two hours later, I was handing the North Harbor personnel roster over to Carlo when a message from Lorenzo appeared on my phone.

Bring me a coffee.

He was particular about coffee to the point of obsession. The balance of sugar and bitterness had to be exact.

No one else in the Family could make it the way he liked it.

I stared at the message for a moment, then went to the service pantry.

Sera was already there.

Lorenzo's black overcoat still hung from her shoulders, and she was turning Matteo's pocket watch slowly between her fingers.

When she saw me, a smile curved at the corner of her mouth.

"You have gotten remarkably tame lately, Erin."

"I thought you would storm into the council room and drag Lorenzo away from me."

"Did you?"

I lowered my eyes to the coffee grinder.

"Would you like a cup? It is Blue Mountain. He brought it back from Jamaica."

My calm caught her off guard.

She studied me as if trying to decide what I was planning.

"Do you really think a marriage certificate no one knows about is enough to secure your position?"

"Everyone in the Moretti Family knows that all I have to do is ask, and Lorenzo will set you aside."

I did not answer.

Sera continued, as though she had finally found the blade sharp enough to cut me.

"There is something else you may never have known."

"Lorenzo kept putting off your civil ceremony. I told him Matteo had died to keep him alive, so he owed the Family a quick marriage and a stable household."

"I told him to marry you. He took you to City Hall the next day."

"That is enough, Sera."

Lorenzo's voice came from the doorway.

He strode into the pantry, his face dark.

"I married Erin because I love her."

"What you said had nothing to do with it."

He did not hesitate.

But I watched only him.

"If you love me, why has our marriage been a secret all this time?"

"Why can every wedding you promise me be canceled because of her?"

Lorenzo went still.

His lips parted, but after a long silence, no answer came.

Sera did not look angry. She smiled as though she had won.

"There. Words are cheap."

"Every choice he makes tells the Family which woman he cannot afford to let down."

My hand froze on the coffee machine.

Every canceled wedding of the past three years came back at once, each memory cutting like a dull blade.

Lorenzo reached for me.

"Erin, it is not what she says."

I pushed the finished coffee toward him.

"Your coffee is ready, Don Moretti."

"I transferred the North Harbor roster to Carlo. I will leave you to it."

Without looking at the panic on his face, I turned and walked out.

That evening, just as I carried the first box of my belongings into my new apartment, Lorenzo called.

"Erin, Sera said those things this afternoon because she wanted to hurt you."

"I love you. No one ever had to tell me to."

His voice was tight with restrained panic.

I held the phone to my ear, my tone flat.

"I know."

That was precisely why it hurt more.

He did love me.

He simply chose me as the person he could disappoint, every single time.

Silence stretched across the line.

At last, Lorenzo sounded as if he had made a decision.

"St. Patrick's Cathedral has an opening on the eighteenth of next month."

"This time, I will announce our marriage before every Family in New York."

My fingers tightened around the phone.

For one brief moment, I hesitated. Then I decided to tell him about the settlement.

"Do you have time tomorrow? Those divorce papers -"

Chapter 4

Before I could finish, Sera's voice came through the phone.

"Lorenzo, the lawyer in Sicily is calling again. Matteo's safe has been found. Are you coming or not?"

Lorenzo's voice moved farther from the receiver.

"What did you say, Erin? I did not hear you."

"Actually, I have to fly to Sicily with Sera tomorrow."

"Matteo may have left a roster of Made Men in that safe. We cannot let it fall into the wrong hands."

"When I get back, you can tell me anything. I promise I will listen."

The call ended, leaving only silence against my ear.

I laughed softly.

I had wanted him to see the settlement for himself.

But once again, he had not left room for me.

Over the next few days, I completed every handover and removed the last of my belongings from the estate.

My clothes fit into three suitcases.

Everything else from the past eight years stayed behind in a house with no wedding portrait on its walls.

Lorenzo sent me occasional photographs of the church arrangements.

White roses or lilies of the valley? Which do you prefer?

We can add another security checkpoint outside the main hall. No one will be able to disrupt the ceremony.

I have asked the tailor to make you a new dress. This time, the date will not change.

All I could see in their beauty was the irony.

Three years of marriage. Fifty-one times waiting for a man who never came.

Now that I was leaving, he had finally begun to take our wedding seriously.

Meanwhile, Sera posted a new story every day.

One showed her and Lorenzo at Matteo's grave. Another showed them walking side by side into the Moretti villa.

There was nothing improper in any of the photographs.

But she cropped out the lawyers and guards who had been standing with them, leaving only Lorenzo and herself.

The day before the wedding Lorenzo had promised me, Sera posted another photograph visible only to me.

She and Lorenzo sat side by side at the head of a long table in the Moretti villa.

Matteo's pocket watch and the Family seal lay between them.

Lorenzo had turned to listen to the lawyer. Sera was looking into the camera with a knowing smile.

The caption contained a single line:

Real family doesn't need a wedding to prove itself.

Three other people had originally been in the corner of the frame. She had cropped out every one of them.

I read the post without a flicker of emotion, tapped Like, and blocked her.

Half an hour later, Lorenzo called.

For once, he sounded relaxed.

"I will be back in New York tomorrow morning."

"The cathedral, the guests, and the security are all arranged."

"When I return, we will finally have our wedding."

The next morning, I did not go to the cathedral.

By noon, Lorenzo still had not called to ask why I was missing.

It was night before he returned to the estate, the cold still clinging to his clothes.

His eyes were full of apology when he found me sitting on the sofa.

"A service truck backfired on the tarmac. Sera thought it was a gunshot and collapsed."

"I could not leave her alone in Sicily."

He crouched in front of me and reached for my hand.

"But it is all right. I promise, nothing will go wrong next time."

The words stirred nothing in me.

Of course.

He had missed wedding number fifty-two too.

I pulled my hand out of his reach and slid the settlement across the table.

"There will not be a next time."

"Lorenzo, you already signed these divorce papers."

"From this day forward, we go our separate ways."