Chapter 3Nine Years of Silence

That afternoon, I started sorting through everything Matteo had given me over the years.

The wooden brooch he'd claimed to have carved himself still had a factory batch number on the back. The vintage silver bracelet he'd said he'd picked out especially for me was available for less than twenty dollars at any flea market. The photo album he'd said took him three months to put together still had the print shop's sample watermark on two of the pages.

All those years of his "thoughtfulness," and he hadn't even bothered to fake it properly.

I stuffed everything into black garbage bags and tossed them into the dumpster downstairs.

That evening, my mother called and told me to come to the Costa estate.

When I walked in, my father was by the fireplace, smoking. My mother skipped every pleasantry and shoved a property transfer agreement in front of me. "Sign it."

I looked down at the address.

It was my Manhattan apartment, the one I'd saved up for bit by bit over nine years from my cut as advisor. The place didn't belong to any Family, and not a single dollar of Matteo's money had gone into it. I'd planned to make it our real home once he went public with our relationship.

"Your sister and Matteo are holding a Family wedding next month," my mother said. "That apartment is close to DeLuca headquarters with good security. Think of it as an engagement gift from her sister."

I stared at the signature line and didn't move.

My mother's tone turned cold. "Cecilia scarred her leg and damaged her lungs pushing you out of that exploding warehouse. You owe her your life. All we're asking for is one apartment, and you're still not satisfied?"

I clenched my fists until my knuckles went white.

For nine years, all they'd had to do was bring up that explosion and I'd cave. A dress Cecilia wanted, a place at the school, shares my father controlled, even public acknowledgment from Matteo: I'd been pressured to give up every one of them.

But a life debt shouldn't be a blank check to drain me dry forever.

Just then, the front door swung open.

Matteo walked in carrying supplements he'd brought for Cecilia. The moment he saw the agreement on the table, his face darkened. He crossed to my side in a few strides and snatched the pen from my mother's hand.

"How can you pressure Elena like this? She bought that apartment herself. Nobody has the right to give it away for her." He frowned, his tone brooking no argument. "I'll take care of Cecilia's housing. The apartment stays."

My mother looked embarrassed. Matteo turned and took my hand, softening his voice. "Elena, don't be upset. See? I'm still on your side. We're not giving her the apartment. It's just a place to live. How could it compare to what we have?"

I looked at him and suddenly found the whole thing absurd.

He probably thought he was being romantic. Back me into a corner with everyone else, then step up to shield me just enough to earn my gratitude and guilt.

I pulled my hand free, picked up the pen, and signed my name on the agreement.

"She can have the apartment. But I have one condition."

I pushed the agreement back to my mother. "Starting today, I don't owe Cecilia a thing. The Costa Family's business, debts, and survival are no longer my concern, and I won't set foot in this house again."

My mother snatched the agreement, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. "Now that's more like it."

She shot me a look, muttered "ungrateful" under her breath, and dragged my father out of the living room as if afraid I'd change my mind.

Matteo stood frozen. It took him a few seconds to react. "Elena, are you throwing a tantrum? If she gets the apartment, where are we supposed to live?"

"That's your problem, Mr. DeLuca."

I turned and walked into the bedroom I'd once slept in and dug a wooden ring box out of the bottom drawer of the desk. Matteo had carved it himself over three sleepless nights at the start of our relationship. He'd said that one day, a real Family ring would go inside.

I didn't hesitate. I snapped it in half and dropped it in the trash.

As the broken pieces fell, I noticed a medical report from a private clinic at the bottom of the trash can.

Patient: Cecilia Costa.

Six weeks pregnant.

Father: Matteo DeLuca.

The date was one month ago, right when Matteo had spent several consecutive nights away from the apartment, claiming he'd been settling accounts at the pier.

My fingertips went cold, inch by inch.

I carried the report back to the living room and slapped it on the table in front of him.

Matteo's face went white. He stared at the paper, his lips trembling, and his knees buckled. He dropped to the floor and wrapped his arms around my legs.

"Elena, let me explain. I was drunk that night, and Cecilia was wearing your jacket and your perfume. I thought she was you." His eyes were red-rimmed, tears spilling down his face, his composure gone. "I wanted to kill myself afterward, but she ended up pregnant. She's miscarried before. The doctor said if anything goes wrong this time, she might never be able to have children again. I had to take responsibility."

He kept talking, one excuse after another, pushing the blame onto the alcohol, onto Cecilia's perfume, onto some notion of a man's duty, and finally, back onto me.

"You've always been the kindest person I know, and no one understands me the way you do. You'll forgive me, won't you? I can marry her in public, but you'll always be the one I love."

I looked down at him like I was looking at a piece of rotting meat.

So he didn't just want me to accept his betrayal. He wanted me to willingly remain his secret lover and spend the rest of my life cleaning up after him and my sister.

I reached down and pried his fingers off my legs, one by one.

"Fine. I forgive you."

My voice was soft. Hope flared in Matteo's eyes.

I put on my coat and walked toward the door. "So enjoy Iceland next week."

He was still on his knees, staring blankly, probably convinced I was only putting up a front and that once my anger cooled, I'd go back to the safe apartment.

He didn't know I'd already booked my ticket out of New York.