Chapter 2The Don Broke His Vows. I Broke His Rules

Back inside, Dante went to shower in the guest bath.

When I came out of ours, I saw his phone on the bed, unlocked and face-up.

I wasn't going to look, but as I passed, I caught the preview of a new message from Bianca. I stopped and opened his messages.

My conversation was pinned at the top, but he'd muted notifications from me.

Right below it was Bianca's name, with a red heart beside it.

I gave a bitter smile.

Dante, I'm such an idiot. I left my bras and panties in your suitcase.

Your wife isn't going to see them and freak out, is she?

I walked over to the suitcase in the corner and opened it. Half of it was filled with Bianca's lace underwear and silk nightgowns.

I froze. It was one more reason to stop caring about him.

The phone buzzed again.

The guards let me in. I'm at the rose garden. Come down when you see this.

I don't want your wife catching me and accusing me of ruining your marriage.

I locked the screen and stepped onto the balcony. A car was parked beside the rose garden.

The guards would never have let Bianca onto the estate without Dante's approval. Unless he'd already told them she was always welcome.

I took a closer look. It was Dante's car: the vintage Mercedes his late mother had left him. He never let me touch it and had told me it was in the shop after a fender bender.

Apparently, he'd given it to Bianca instead.

A housekeeper brought a blanket to the garden pavilion. Bianca settled into the seat beneath the heater as though she belonged there. She didn't even have to ask.

The housekeeper knew exactly what to do. Clearly, Bianca had been here before. Was this where they met behind my back?

Did Dante get a thrill out of it, knowing I could see them from our bedroom window?

The late-autumn wind off the Hudson cut right through me.

Dante stopped in the doorway, his gaze moving from me to the open suitcase.

"Audrey. Who gave you permission to go through my things?"

Permission. In our own bedroom.

I turned to him with a cold smile.

"Afraid I'd see what's inside?"

He shut the suitcase with a sharp click and turned to face me.

"Don't be childish. Bianca had too much luggage. She's keeping some of it with me for now."

"Mm."

I didn't push. We both knew what was going on between them. Anyone could see it.

He checked his phone. His whole face softened when he saw her message.

He waited until after midnight to go down to her. After calling my name softly twice, he slipped out of bed and headed downstairs, apparently satisfied I was asleep.

I opened my eyes in the dark, pushed back the covers, and went to the window.

I saw him take the path to the rose garden. The guard at the pavilion withdrew as he approached. Bianca ran into his arms and nestled against him, pouting about something.

He didn't push her away. He held her tightly.

A few minutes later, Bianca posted on Instagram.

The man I love still makes time to stargaze with me, even after all these years as the Don.

Below the caption was a photo of them in the car beside the pavilion, the sunroof open and their heads tipped back. The windows of our bedroom were visible behind them.

I stared at it for a long moment.

Then I lay back down and scheduled an appointment with a divorce attorney for the day after the funeral.

None of us slept that night.

Dante didn't come back upstairs until the sky was turning gray.

At seven, when I came out of the bedroom, he already had breakfast on the counter.

"I made everything you like. We'll go to the service together."

I looked at the food and spoke flatly.

"I'm allergic to shellfish. Bianca's the one who likes shrimp dumplings. I never have."

He stopped pouring my coffee, apparently realizing his mistake.

He set the coffeepot down. Before he could explain, I picked up my car keys and walked out.

Today was the funeral service, followed by the burial. The funeral director had made it clear we needed to be on time.

Dante caught up to me and slid into the passenger seat. His phone rang.

"A car accident?"

His hand tightened around the phone. "Where?"

"I'll be right there."

He hung up and turned to me.

"Bianca's been in an accident. I have to go. The burial's at noon — I'll make it back, I swear."

I stared at the steering wheel and asked him one last time.

"Do you have to go?"

His tone hardened. "Audrey. I'm going. Don't make this harder."

I let go of the steering wheel. I was done asking him to stay.

"Fine. Go."

He got out. I drove off without looking back.

But when I pulled up to the funeral home, I found an uninvited guest already waiting.