Chapter 2The Last Bell at St. Patrick's

The next morning, I was in the estate's study as usual, going over the Caruso family's accounts from last quarter.

The door pushed open. Damian's right-hand man, Locke, walked in, carefully carrying a dark green velvet box.

"Donna, this is a gift from the Don. He said yesterday's wedding put you through too much."

I didn't look up. My pen kept moving steadily across the ledger. "Leave it."

I knew what was in the box.

An antique brooch engraved with the Caruso family crest, the thornbird. The symbol of the Don's wife through every generation.

Damian had promised me he'd pin it on me himself the day after our wedding.

I set down my pen and was about to open the box when my phone lit up.

A message from Bella. A selfie.

In the photo, she was wearing a men's shirt I recognized instantly. Her face was pale, but pinned right there on her collar was the thornbird brooch. The Caruso Donna's brooch.

[Viola, Damian said wearing the family crest makes her feel safe. You're already the recognized future Donna. You won't mind lending it to me for a few days, right? Just as a good-luck charm.]

I froze. Then I reached over and flipped the lock on the velvet box.

The lid popped open. Empty.

So the box Locke delivered was empty.

The real brooch had already been pinned by Damian's own hands onto another woman's chest.

I closed the box, picked up my phone, and called Damian.

"Damian, using an empty box as your so-called 'compensation.' Is that the Caruso family's new humor, or the last bit of respect you have for me?"

Silence on the other end for a beat. Then Damian sighed.

"Viola, let me explain. Bella got into an accident yesterday. She's on the verge of a breakdown. She saw me holding the brooch and said the crest made her feel safe. I figured you weren't in a rush to wear it, so I lent it to her for a few days. I forgot to tell Locke I'd already taken it out. I wasn't trying to provoke you."

I looked out the window at the bare oak trees, and something desolate took root in my chest.

"But that's the symbol of every Donna before me."

"Viola, you're already the recognized next Donna. You don't need a piece of jewelry to prove that."

Damian's voice dropped, slipping into that familiar script.

"A real Donna's true symbol is her grace. Don't nitpick over something this small. Show me some magnanimity, alright? I'll have Locke pick you up a better diamond necklace from Bulgari."

I went quiet.

Seven years. He always did this. Taking what was mine to soothe Bella, then dressing it up as the bigger picture a Donna should have.

Because in his eyes, I was strong enough. So I didn't need to be favored.

"Alright."

I said it softly.

"That's my girl."

Damian let out a breath, his tone gentle again.

"Wait for me. We'll have dinner tonight."

After I hung up, I let out a long breath.

This time, it felt like what I'd given up wasn't just a brooch.