Chapter 2

The phone clicked dead.

My mind immediately dragged me back to the dusty study, to the day Lewis's father, Vittorio Ravelli, took his last breaths.

"Vanessa," the old Don had wheezed, "your father took a bullet for me. I swore I'd protect you."

Elias Pritchard, his most trusted lawyer, slid a sealed manila envelope across the desk.

"If Lewis ever betrays you in this marriage," Vittorio coughed, his eyes locking onto mine. "Every share, every ounce of voting power in the Ravelli Group, transfers to you. Don't be soft, Vanessa."

I had cried, clutching the parchment. "Don Vittorio, Lewis treats me like a queen. I'll never need this."

How naive I was.

Just weeks before our wedding, a brutal kidnapping by a rival syndicate dragged my name through the New York mud.

Whispers of what happened to me in that dark room poisoned the Long Island high society.

I tried to break the engagement. I couldn't let my ruined reputation destroy the Ravelli name.

But Lewis knelt outside my family's estate in the pouring rain for three entire days.

"Vanessa!" he had screamed, his voice cracking. "I don't care what they say! You are my wife! I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you again!"

My mother was terrified I'd be mistreated if I married into his family. "Even if you stay single forever, I can take care of you."

But I was foolishly in love with the boy I'd adored since I was thirteen. "Mom, I want to give him my whole life."

For a while, he kept his vow.

He bought me a private island in the Caribbean just because I liked the quiet.

He flew in twenty botanists to plant a sea of white roses, just for me.

At every mafia gala and corporate dinner, he held my hand tight.

When I shrank back, terrified of the whispers, he’d kiss my temple. "You're the most beautiful woman in New York," he'd murmur. "Hold your head high."

Once, a Capo from another family made a dirty joke about my kidnapping.

Lewis smashed a whiskey bottle over his head, leaving the man bleeding on the floor. "She is a Ravelli now. Say another word, and I'll cut out your tongue."

Holding his bruised knuckles that night, I gave him my entire soul.

The nightmares finally stopped. I thought I was safe.

Then, he brought her home.

Her name was Marnie Abbott. A charity case from the Bronx he’d put through college.

"She just graduated," Lewis said smoothly, not letting go of her hand. "She has a clean background, Vanessa. Zero baggage."

Clean background. The words felt like a switchblade to my gut.

"The family business is going completely legit," he continued. "I need someone spotless for the public events."

"I can go with you," I choked out, swallowing my pride. "I know all the rules for the charity galas..."

Marnie stepped forward, her smile twisting into a sneer. "You're Vanessa, right? Everyone in Long Island says you're dirty. You'll just make the Don a laughingstock."

The blood drained from my face.

I looked at Lewis, waiting for his rage.

But he only sighed. "Marnie, enough. She was a victim. Don't bring it up."

"Who knows?" Marnie giggled, leaning into his chest. "Maybe she enjoyed it."

"Marnie!" he warned, but his voice lacked any real bite.

He stroked her hair instead. "You're such a brat."

Watching them flirt over my open wounds, my chest caved in.

I turned and walked toward the stairs.

"Don't be so sensitive, Vanessa," he called after me. "She's just blunt. You'll always be Mrs. Ravelli. Nobody can take your title."

Title? Was that all I was?

That night, I lay frozen in the master bedroom, the muffled sounds of their moans bleeding through the walls from the guest room.

I covered my ears, whispering into the dark. I owe him. I shouldn't be jealous. He saved me.

My endless patience didn't bring him guilt. It only made him bolder.

Until now I hid in the walk-in closet and heard the sick, twisted truth about my kidnapping fall right from his lips.

I carefully smoothed out the suit jacket stained with my own blood, hiding it in the very back of the closet.

Downstairs, the front door suddenly slammed open.

It was 2:00 AM.

"Vanessa!" Lewis bellowed, his voice thick with bourbon.

I rushed down the stairs in my nightgown, catching his frame before he tripped over the rug.

I guided him to the leather sofa and knelt to unlace his oxfords.

Suddenly, his boot slammed into my chest.

I flew backward, hitting the floor hard.

He stood up, swaying, his eyes dark with malice.

"Sleeping while I'm out?" he sneered.

"Tell me, Vanessa. During those 24 hours the rival gang had you... exactly how did you serve all those men?"