Chapter 2

I knew exactly what he meant.

I'd never forget the day Taviano slapped me in front of his entire office.

It happened during our third divorce.

After our third divorce, I'd applied for a position at Ruscello Holdings just to stay close to him.

I'd brought him his favorite latte, hoping we could have lunch together. Instead, I opened his office door to find Isolde sitting on his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck.

They were kissing.

I dropped the coffee.

Isolde screamed when I lunged at her, but before I could get close, Taviano grabbed me.

His hand struck my cheek so hard I fell against the desk.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

By then, half the executive floor had gathered outside.

Someone whispered that the Donna had caught her husband cheating.

Taviano heard it.

His expression turned murderous.

"We're divorced," he announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Isolde isn't anyone's mistress."

Then he snatched my handbag, dumped its contents onto the floor, and pulled our divorce papers from the mess.

He held them up for everyone to see.

"Does that clear things up?"

I could still remember kneeling among my scattered belongings while Isolde stood behind him, pretending to cry.

After that, Taviano made sure every divorce was publicly announced to the Family.

No one ever questioned Isolde's place beside him again.

They only laughed at mine.

---

"Vespera, are you listening?"

Taviano's voice dragged me back to the present.

I was standing beside my suitcase in the entrance hall.

He had followed me downstairs.

"I mean it. Don't cause trouble for Isolde this time."

"I won't."

"And keep Mirelle out of it."

"I said I won't."

He looked unconvinced.

I picked up my bag and walked toward the door.

"Fine. I'll leave you two alone."

I had almost reached the steps when he called after me.

"The thirteenth, Vespera. Don't forget."

I paused.

What a coincidence.

My flight was booked for the thirteenth.

"Don't worry," I said without turning around. "I remember."

As expected, Taviano didn't contact me once after Isolde arrived.

In the past, I would've spent every waking hour checking his schedule, asking his men where he'd gone, or driving past the places he liked to take her.

This time, I turned off his notifications.

Mirelle seemed delighted.

"Finally," she declared on my first night at her apartment, setting two enormous glasses of wine on the kitchen counter. "I was beginning to think my brother had permanently damaged your brain."

"Mirelle."

"What? It's true."

She raised her glass.

"To the first divorce you've ever celebrated."

I laughed.

For the next several days, we shopped, ordered takeout, stayed up watching terrible movies, and went out whenever we felt like it.

No guards reporting my movements to Taviano.

No family dinners where everyone pretended not to notice his empty chair beside mine.

No waiting for a phone call that never came.

For the first time in years, I remembered what it felt like to have a life that didn't revolve around my husband.

Twenty days before my departure, Mirelle dragged me to a jewelry boutique on Fifth Avenue.

"You deserve something pretty," she insisted. "Preferably something my brother didn't buy."

I was examining a delicate diamond bracelet when the sales associate brought out a matching necklace.

It was beautiful. A single pear-shaped sapphire rested against a thin platinum chain.

"I'll take it," I said.

The associate smiled and reached for the presentation box.

"Vespera?"

I knew that voice.

Taviano stood near the entrance, one hand resting on Isolde's waist.

Isolde wore a cream-colored dress and the satisfied smile of a woman who knew exactly where she belonged.

"What a coincidence!" she exclaimed.

Mirelle's expression immediately soured.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Taviano's gaze moved from his sister to me.

"What are you two doing here?"

"Shopping," Mirelle replied. "It's what people do in stores."

He ignored her.

His eyes settled on my face, and I saw him tense slightly.

Probably waiting for me to start screaming.

Isolde stepped closer to the counter. Then she noticed the necklace.

"Oh, Taviano, look! Isn't that gorgeous?"

The associate hesitated.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. This piece has already been reserved for—"

"I want it," Isolde interrupted, slipping her arm through Taviano's.

She looked at me and smiled.

"You don't mind, do you, Vespera? Taviano promised he'd buy me something special today."

Mirelle scoffed. "She picked it first."

"Oh. I didn't realize." Isolde's smile faltered. She turned to Taviano. "It's fine. I suppose we can find something else."

Her voice was soft enough to sound disappointed.

Taviano looked between us.

For one brief moment, I thought he might actually tell her to choose another necklace.

Then he turned to me. "Vespera, let her have this one. I'll get you something else."

"Are you serious?" Mirelle stared at him.

"It's a necklace, Mirelle."

"Then buy your girlfriend another one."

His jaw tightened.

"Watch your mouth."

I touched Mirelle's arm before she could answer.

"It's fine."

Both of them looked at me.

I turned to the associate. "Please give it to her."

Isolde's smile returned immediately.

"That's so sweet of you, Vespera."

I barely heard her.

There was a time when I would've fought over that necklace simply because Taviano had chosen her over me.

Now I couldn't understand why I'd ever bothered.

Mirelle grabbed my hand.

"Come on. We're leaving."

I followed her toward the door.

Behind us, Taviano called my name.

I glanced back.

He stood beside Isolde, his brows drawn together, looking strangely unsettled.

"You don't have to leave."

I gave him a small smile.

"It's okay, Taviano. I hope she likes it."

Then I walked out with Mirelle.

I wasn't about to waste another minute fighting over something I no longer wanted.