Chapter 2

I started erasing myself from this house.

In the mafia world, disposing of a body requires acid and lime. But disposing of a marriage? All it takes is a few black trash bags.

I opened the safe in our bedroom. Inside was a Browning M1910. Nico gave it to me. We'd just gotten married, and someone had threatened to hurt me, so he gave me this gun for protection. He swore he would never let me take a bullet.

I ran my fingers over the cold metal. No lingering. I dropped it straight into the bag.

Next was the custom lace wedding dress, flown in special from Milan. Once worth a fortune. I grabbed scissors and started cutting through the train, tearing apart all that intricate embroidery, stuffing the shredded pieces into one bag and sealed it shut.

And I started laughing. Silent at first. The kind of laugh that builds until tears threaten to spill.

"Riley?"

I turned. Nico stood in the doorway in a charcoal hand-tailored suit. His brow furrowed as he took in the mess on the floor. There was real concern in his eyes.

"My love, are you okay?"

"Nothing." I wiped my eyes, grateful I'd sealed all the bags, Nico hadn't seen the shredded wedding dress. "Just thought these things were taking up space. Time to clear them out."

"Babe." He walked over, reaching out to stop me. "What's wrong? Have you been unhappy lately?"

He looked genuinely worried. He did care about me. And that's exactly what made this unbearable.

"Nico," I finally turned to face him, voice steady. "Keeping useless things around only gets you killed."

He froze for a second. Then he sighed, soft and resigned. "Alright. If you need to clear things out, go ahead. But don't wear yourself out, okay? Me and the kids worry about you."

He glanced at his watch. "I've got a meeting tonight. Might run late. I'll come straight home after."

He stepped closer, gently brushing my hair back from my face. His touch was light, careful, "Go rest for a bit, okay? Stop fussing around here. You've been looking pale lately."

"Mm." I nodded.

He looked at me again, like he wanted to say something more. In the end, he just smiled and turned to leave.

I watched his retreating back. This man who once promised to take bullets for me was now the one driving the sharpest knife into my heart.

I knew he probably wasn't going to any meeting. But I felt no anger. Anger had stopped meaning anything long ago.

If Nico's betrayal was the knife in my heart, then my children's attitude was the poison coating the blade.

That afternoon, I sat in the living room. Leo and Mia came home from school, changed their shoes, tossed their jackets aside.

I stood up, trying to keep my voice light. "Hey guys, I made chocolate cake today. Your favorite. Want some?"

Leo looked up briefly, then back down at his comic book. "No thanks, Mom. Dad's taking us out to dinner tonight."

My hand froze mid-air.

"What?"

"Dad promised yesterday." Mia looked up from the couch. "We're going with Ale—"

"Mia!" Leo's head snapped up, cutting her off sharp. Then he turned to me with that sweet smile. "Mom, we can't eat cake now because of dinner. But we'll save it for tomorrow, okay? You make the best cakes!"

Mia went quiet. She knew she'd almost said too much.

They've been lying to me all along, both of them. Helping their father deceive me.

I thought about how they used to rush into my arms after school. Used to share stories from their day. Used to read books together curled up on this couch.

Then I stopped letting Leo play with those realistic replica guns. Too dangerous. Stopped letting Mia have candy before bed because her cavities were getting worse.

And that's when the distance started.

I looked at these two children. Their features were so much like Nico's. Same eyes. Same ability to lie straight to my face.

Kids really do take after their father.

All the emotions I'd been holding back finally crashed over me like a wave, drowning me, crushing the air from my lungs.

"Okay." I forced myself to smile, using every bit of strength I had left. My voice came out so soft it was almost like talking to myself. "As long as you're happy."