Chapter 3

Soraya

Night fell, and the salt wind drifted through the open window.

I was dreaming. I knew I was dreaming, and I couldn't wake up. Cold sweat. My eyes jerking under the lids. A voice, mine, whimpering into the pillow.

"Don't hit me... please, it hurts... Mamma..."

A hand slid onto my waist.

I jolted awake and lunged for the edge of the bed, retching.

Villa Serena came back all at once. The tile floor under my cheek. The hose. The orderlies laughing. My stomach heaved until there was nothing left.

Behind me, Tiziano had gone very still. When he spoke, his voice was ice.

"What the hell is this? Does my touching you make you sick?"

It took a while before I could talk. "It's not you. I was remembering Villa Serena..."

His jaw tightened. "I gave strict orders. Nobody there was allowed to lay a finger on you. You were there to recover from postpartum depression. Who exactly is this performance for?"

So the beatings and the ice water had been treatment. I almost laughed.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I'm being dramatic."

He stared at me. The old me would have argued until I was hoarse and listed every bruise. This version of me just apologized, and I could tell it threw him. It made him angry, even, though I don't think he knew why.

After a long silence, he said stiffly, "Good. Tomorrow's Rosalinda's birthday. Use the party to apologize to her properly. She treats your children like her own. Don't be ungrateful."

I swallowed everything I wanted to say. "Okay."

He got up like he meant to leave, hesitated, then lay down on the far side of the bed and draped one arm loosely over my waist.

"Stop fighting me, Soraya. Behave, and I'll take care of you."

I didn't answer.

By the next evening, the Scaffidi estate glittered.

With Alfonso confined to his bed, everyone knew who really ran the family, and everyone knew Tiziano doted on Rosalinda. Capos and their wives, city councilmen, shipping magnates: they all lined up to kiss her cheek and pile gifts at her feet.

None of them came close to what Tiziano gave her.

Not diamonds. Not a villa on the coast. He gave her the lion signet ring.

Whoever wore that ring spoke with the Don's voice. They could move his men, sign his papers, give his orders.

Rosalinda's breath caught as he slid it onto her finger. Her cheeks flushed pink. The ballroom erupted in whispers.

"They were engaged once, you know. Looks like it never really ended."

"Giving her the ring? What does his wife have to say about that?"

"Soraya? Please. The girl who drugged her way in? She doesn't get an opinion. Give it a year. She'll be out on the street."

When I first married into this family, Concetta tried to teach me how to run the household. Tiziano stopped her. I don't want you working yourself to death, he'd said, and handed it all to Rosalinda instead. So in this whole enormous house, everyone bowed to Rosalinda, and everyone looked at me like something stuck to the bottom of their shoe.

If you want to prove you love a woman, you put power in her hands. Tiziano understood that better than anyone. He'd just never put any in mine.

Before I could even gather my thoughts, a thin man in a waiter’s jacket shoved past the terrace guards.

He had a gun.

"Rosalinda Caruso! You destroyed my family! Now you pay!"

Tiziano's eyes went wide. "Rosalinda!"

A split second later, something slammed into my back. I stumbled forward, directly into the space in front of her.

I twisted around, not understanding.

It was Tiziano. He'd shoved me into the line of fire.

The gun went off.

The bullet punched into my chest, and the pain swallowed everything. Through the blur, I saw him lunge for me, catch me, pull me against him.

I used everything I had left to get one word out.

"Why...?"