Chapter 2Left Behind on My Honeymoon, The Mafia Heiress Returns

The next morning, Dante came to pick me up himself.

But Bianca was already sitting in the passenger seat.

She had changed into a fitted leather outfit that allowed her to move freely. A holster was strapped to her thigh, and she held a map in her hands.

When she saw me coming, she rolled down the window.

“You can sit in the back, Ariana.”

“I know these roads better. It’ll be easier for me to guide Dante from up here.”

Except I had planned the entire route.

I knew where every checkpoint was, which roads ran through neutral territory, and which safe houses we could use along the way.

I knew the route far better than she did.

I was about to say so when Dante got out and took my luggage.

“Ariana, Bianca gets carsick.”

“It’s only for the first half of the trip. She’ll leave when we reach Naples.”

He opened the back door for me and kissed my temple.

“Don’t be upset, all right?”

I looked into his gentle eyes and climbed into the back seat.

Five years ago, the first time Dante took me beyond the estate, I had sat beside him in the passenger seat.

The Moretti family had just survived a violent internal power struggle, and men who wanted Dante dead were scattered all across Sicily.

My palms had been slick with sweat when we passed through the first checkpoint.

Dante had taken my hand and rested it on his thigh.

“Relax. As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you.”

We had survived more attacks than I could count since then.

I had bandaged his wounds and guarded his back while bullets tore through the air around us.

I was no longer the girl who trembled at the sound of gunfire.

But somewhere along the way, the place beside him had stopped belonging to me.

It had become Bianca’s.

They talked animatedly throughout the drive.

They reminisced about the trouble they had gotten into as children.

They talked about the years when Bianca’s parents were still alive and all three of them had lived together on the estate.

They discussed which mountain roads could be reopened and which warehouses would be best for storing weapons.

With the map spread across her lap, Bianca kept leaning closer to Dante.

“Do you remember this place?”

“When we were children, you snuck me off the estate, and we nearly got lost in the mountains.”

Dante laughed.

“You were the one who insisted on going.”

“And who ended up carrying me all the way home?”

They laughed together.

I sat alone in the back, feeling like an outsider who had forced her way into memories that belonged only to them.

This was supposed to be my honeymoon, yet I couldn’t find a way into their conversation.

I lowered my eyes and focused on the itinerary resting on my knees.

I had listed every road we would take, every hotel where we would stay, every stretch of hostile territory we would cross, and every escape route we could use in the event of an attack.

Several times, I tried to remind Dante that we needed to cross the territory ahead before nightfall.

It was controlled by a rival family.

Neither of them paid any attention to me.

When we stopped for lunch, Bianca pointed to a restaurant across the road.

“I want to eat there.”

I glanced at the family crest above its entrance.

“That restaurant belongs to the Calderone family.”

“We seized one of their shipments last month. It isn’t safe for us to go inside.”

Bianca arched an eyebrow.

“We brought an entire convoy with us, and we’re supposed to be afraid of one restaurant?”

Dante smiled at her.

“All right. Your choice.”

I frowned.

“Dante, your stomach was acting up again last night.”

“The food there is spicy. You shouldn’t eat it.”

His smile faded.

“Ariana, can we go one day without talking about danger?”

“It’s one meal. Nothing is going to happen.”

In the end, they ordered a table full of spicy food.

Dante barely ate, but within half an hour, all the color had drained from his face.

I took his medication from my bag, poured him a glass of water, and handed both to him.

Across the table, Bianca propped her chin on one hand and smiled.

“Ariana, you’re more like his mother than his wife.”

Dante accepted the pills and gave me an exasperated look.

“That’s just how she is. She’s so used to managing me that she can’t help herself.”

My hand froze around the glass.

I had only been worried about him.

Yet the way they spoke made my concern sound like a joke I should have known better than to make.