Three years into our marriage, I stumbled upon a secret: my husband, Ermanno Santoro, the man who supposedly loved me to the marrow of his bones, kept a safehouse on the outskirts of the city.
I followed him there and watched with my own eyes as he slid his hand inside another woman's clothes in full view of his captains, his gaze burning with a desire I knew all too well.
The men around them exchanged knowing looks. "You're so desperate for her, Boss, why not just marry Katarina Ferro already? You've been feeding your wife that contraceptive through the doctor for years. Aren't you just waiting for her to fail to conceive so she'll offer to step aside herself?"
He cut them off with a frown. "Shut your mouths. And speaking of the compound, make sure Dottore keeps the dosage careful. I won't have it damaging her health."
After a pause, he added one more warning.
"If word of this reaches my wife, none of you will be spared."
They all went silent, hands at their sides, and watched as he wrapped his arm around the woman and led her into the back room.
Soft moans drifted through the closed door. My heart froze over, inch by inch.
So the husband who had treated me like his whole world had already given his heart to someone else.
Fine, then. Heaven or abyss, I would make sure he never found me again.
——
I fled the safehouse in a blind panic, wandering aimlessly until the moon hung high before I finally made it back to the compound.
Rosa was waiting in the kitchen with the usual glass of warm medicine the family doctor had prescribed, ready for me to drink.
The faint metallic tang of blood hit my nose, and my thoughts drifted far away.
After our wedding, the family doctor had examined me and declared my constitution too weak to conceive easily.
Ermanno refused to watch me grieve. He called in specialists from as far as Chicago and Miami until one of them devised a rare remedy: medicine brewed with a man's own blood, said to strengthen the body at its root.
Without a moment's hesitation, he took a blade to his own chest and began brewing the tonic with blood drawn from over his heart, every single day.
I would trace the lattice of scars across his chest, my heart aching so badly I could barely breathe. I refused to waste a single drop of what his suffering had bought. So I choked down that bitter, iron-reeking medicine for three years straight, never missing a dose.
I had believed he wanted the same thing I did: a child that carried both our bloodlines.
Yet he would rather cut himself open than let me bear his child.
Ermanno walked through the door just as I sat staring blankly at the glass in my hands.
He came up behind me, rested his hands on my shoulders, and murmured, "What are you thinking about, Gioia? The medicine will go cold if you don't drink it soon."
I looked up at the gentle, warm man before me and let my gaze travel over him, careful not to show it.
He had changed his clothes at some point. His fingertips and hair carried a clean, freshly scrubbed scent. He must have bathed before coming home.
But no matter how meticulous he was, the faint smudge of rouge behind his ear gave him away.
The ghost of perfume clinging to his skin conjured the image of their tangled bodies, and bile rose in my throat.
"It's nothing. I drove out past the old territory today and might have caught a chill. The medicine tastes more bitter than usual."
A flicker of panic crossed Ermanno's eyes.
"Past the territory? Why on earth would you go out there? It's still freezing. Did you run into anyone?"
"No."
I shook my head and set the glass on the table, letting my lower lip jut out in a small pout. "Do I really have to keep drinking this? It's been years and nothing's happened. That doctor must have been a fraud."
The tension drained from his shoulders all at once. He pulled me into his arms and tapped the tip of my nose.
"Now, now, Gioia. Don't be a child. Don't you want to give your husband a son or daughter?"
He picked up the glass. "Be good. Let me feed it to you."
His dark eyes held a tenderness deep enough to drown in. My own eyes stung red as I asked one more time, my voice barely above a whisper: "I really have to drink it?"
He blinked, then smiled softly and nodded. Spoonful by spoonful, he tipped the medicine into my mouth.
I swallowed it mechanically, one mouthful after another, the bitterness so sharp that tears pooled in my eyes.
He was that determined. He would never let me carry his child.
If he had fallen in love with someone else, he could have simply told me. I would have stepped aside. There was no need for all of this.
Chapter 2After I finished the medicine, Ermanno kissed the tears from my face, then dismissed the staff and undressed me himself, drawing my bath with practiced hands.
He had done this for me countless times without complaint. In the beginning, I'd felt embarrassed and tried to call someone in to help.
But he'd gazed at me with open adoration. "A body this beautiful? I'd never let anyone else so much as glimpse you."
"You're mine alone."
Every detail of my daily life, large or small, he insisted on handling personally, and he seemed to relish every moment of it.
What made it rarer still was that in three years of marriage, he had kept no one but me. His household staff consisted entirely of men. There wasn't a single woman to be found inside the compound walls.
Ermanno was young and held the highest seat of power any man could claim. Even Don Silvio Lombardi had once tried to send him a pair of women as a gift following a successful sit-down, a gesture of goodwill between families.
He refused outright, in front of every Boss at the Commission table. The insult nearly started a war. Three of Silvio's soldiers put him on the ground in the parking garage afterward, and they didn't stop until someone pulled them off.
I'd seen him that night, his shirt soaked through with blood, not a rib left uncracked, and I wept and cursed him for being a fool.
But even through the pain, he smiled and pulled me close. "Don't cry. I'd sooner betray the whole world than betray you."
Back then, I believed I was the luckiest woman alive.
Everyone in the city knew that Don Santoro kept a wife he treasured like the very eyes in his head. They envied me endlessly.
Yet that woman, Katarina, had shattered something. For the first time, the husband I'd loved for years felt like a stranger, and every tender moment between us felt like an elaborate lie.
By the time I came back to myself, I was wrapped in thin silk and cradled in Ermanno's lap.
He nuzzled my neck, coaxing, and I turned my head away on instinct. "I'm tired. Not tonight."
Ermanno blinked, then softened. He ruffled my hair, eased me down onto the pillows, and tucked the covers snugly around me.
I waited until his breathing grew deep and even before opening my eyes in the dark.
Even in sleep, his arms were locked around me, refusing to let go. He loved me so completely. How could any of it be a lie?
The next morning, Ermanno was in high spirits, eager to take me to the vineyards outside the city, a quiet stretch of land the Family owned under a shell company where no soldiers stood post.
Before I could answer, someone appeared at the study door requesting a word.
The visitor barely got two words out before Ermanno's brow creased and he snapped, "It's my day off. I made it perfectly clear that no one was to come to the house."
I tugged at his sleeve. "Don't be angry. It might be something urgent."
I called the visitor forward to deliver the message, but the instant the figure raised its head, Ermanno strode over and placed himself between us, blocking my view entirely.
His throat worked. He looked at me with something close to guilt.
"I just remembered, there is something pressing I need to handle. I'll be quick. I won't miss the vineyards, I promise."
I studied him in silence. The visitor wore the dark jacket of one of the household men, but the frame beneath it was slender and soft. Given how rattled Ermanno was, who else could it be but the woman he kept at the safehouse?
My thumb pressed against the inside of my ring finger, hard, until the knuckle ached. I kept my expression neutral and my voice light. "If it's that urgent, you should go. No need to rush back on my account."
The moment I said it, Ermanno turned on his heel and left without looking back.
I watched his figure disappear through the front hall, past the two soldiers flanking the door who straightened as he passed, and a bitter taste crept across my lips.
This was the first time he had ever left me for another woman.
The restlessness gnawed at me until I couldn't stand it. After a long hesitation, I chose one of the unmarked sedans from the garage and followed him myself.
The moment they turned out of the lane in front of the Santoro estate, Ermanno stopped the car and yanked the cap off the so-called attendant's head. Silk-dark hair spilled down past her shoulders.
"Who gave you permission to show your face anywhere near my wife?"
The woman shrank back like a startled fawn, her eyes wide and brimming with hurt.
"I didn't mean to. Please don't be angry."
Chapter 3Then Katarina's face lit up with joy as she pressed a hand to her lower belly.
"The doctor says I'm with child. I was so eager to see you that I just..."
"Please don't be so harsh with me, darling. You're scaring me."
Ermanno stood frozen. A long moment passed before he spoke again, his voice noticeably softer.
"You're pregnant? Then why aren't you resting at the safehouse instead of running around? What if something happens to you?"
Katarina gazed up at him with glistening eyes, her red lips pushed into a pretty pout. "I just couldn't wait to share the good news with you... Darling, won't you spend the day with me? Please?"
Ermanno refused, his tone clipped. "I promised Gioia I'd be with her today."
But Katarina wasn't giving up. A flush crept across her cheeks as she leaned in close, whispering something against his ear.
"Don't you miss me at all..."
Ermanno's restraint crumbled. He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her body against his, letting out a low, rough laugh. "You little temptress."
"Same rules. Don't leave any marks."
I watched every shameless second of it, and it felt like a blade twisting between my ribs.
In all our years of marriage, he had only ever been composed and dignified in front of me. The Don, measured and controlled, restrained even in our marriage bed.
I had never once seen him like this.
Ermanno helped Katarina into the back of the black sedan with exaggerated care. The driver pulled away from the curb, but the car didn't get far. It idled at the end of the block, the tinted windows fogged from the inside. They couldn't even wait.
I don't know how long it lasted. Eventually the sedan pulled forward again and merged into traffic.
I followed them the entire way. I watched Ermanno slide an elegant gold pin through her tangled hair and twist it into place. I watched them walk arm in arm through the old neighborhood, past the social clubs and the bakeries where men who answered to him looked the other way. I watched them sit at a corner trattoria and share a single plate of pasta, his hand covering hers on the red-checked tablecloth.
At last they climbed back into the sedan, laughing, and the car turned toward the highway heading out of the city. I looked up and recognized the direction. The safehouse.
So Ermanno could be this tender, this attentive, with another woman after all.
I stared until my eyes burned. Only then did I look away and give the order to my driver.
"Take me home."
"And not a word about today. To anyone."
On the ride back to the compound, I couldn't stop seeing it. Katarina's hand resting on her belly, that soft, glowing smile.
And then I thought of the fertility-suppressing poison Ermanno had been slipping me for three full years, disguised as protective medicine, and the grief was so thick I couldn't breathe.
Before today I had still been lying to myself. Even if Ermanno had deceived me about the medicine, it didn't mean he felt nothing for me. Maybe he simply didn't want children.
But just now, the way he'd looked at Katarina's belly. The way his voice had changed. He cared about that child.
I remembered something he'd said before our wedding. "Only two people who truly love each other should bring a life into this world together."
He had never loved me. Not from the very beginning. That was why he'd done everything in his power to keep me from carrying his child.
But if he felt nothing for me, why bother with the lie? Why keep it going for so many years?
I drifted back to our rooms like a ghost and threw every last thing connected to him into the fireplace.
The lovebird folding screen he'd given me. The rare books he'd hunted down from every corner of the city, first editions tracked through dealers and old debts called in. The countless letters we had written together, line by line, in the early years when I still believed.
I watched them curl and blacken, inch by inch, until there was nothing left. Only then did the pressure in my chest ease, just slightly.
No. Not enough. How could I have forgotten?
I stormed into Ermanno's study like a woman possessed and found it on his desk, right where it always sat. The journal.
He had started it the day we met. Every little thing I liked, every habit, every preference, collected drop by drop over the years. By now it was thick as a fist.
I opened the yellowed pages, and every word made my eyes swell with pressure.
Gioia has a sweet tooth and hates sour flavors. The kitchen must prepare a sweet dish with every meal.
Gioia gets cold easily. Have the fireplaces lit in her rooms by September.
Gioia is afraid of the dark at night. She likes to fall asleep in my arms.
I love Gioia so much, so much, so much. Remember: never let her cry.
Chapter 4They say the written word never lies. So how could all this love, overflowing from every page, be nothing but a lie?
I tore through the pages one by one, ripping without mercy.
My gaze caught on an ornate wooden box. Something compelled me to open it.
A delicate portrait of a woman, all soft curves and coy beauty, had been tucked carefully into a hidden compartment. Along the edge, in small, unassuming script, were the words:
"I wish to be the sparrow nesting in the eaves, so that morning and evening, we may always be together."
"The fifth of October. The year we were married."
I sank to the floor, my vision blurring before I could stop it.
That was one month after our wedding. His heart had already strayed by then.
I was a fool. A complete and utter fool.
The dishes on the table had been reheated again and again. I waved my hand, signaling Rosa to clear them away.
"I'm tired. Help me to bed."
Rosa stared at me in disbelief. "Ma'am, aren't you going to wait for the Don? He promised he'd make it back in time to take you to the orchard. The cherry blossoms along the old road."
I shook my head and began undressing without another word.
Ermanno wasn't coming back.
The next morning, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Ermanno kneeling at the side of the bed, his face heavy with guilt.
"Gioia, I'm sorry. I lost track of time yesterday. I broke my promise..."
I stared at him for a long time, unblinking.
Who would have believed it? The Don who cut through Commission politics without flinching, who ordered men's fates decided with a nod, on his knees before me over a broken date.
A husband like that. Anyone would find it impossible to stay angry.
When I said nothing, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his own body, urging me to hit him.
"If you're upset, take it out on me. Hit me until you feel better, all right?"
I shook my head, my voice flat. "I'm not upset. I just think it's a shame. The cherry blossoms in full bloom. I never got to see them."
Relief flooded his face. He lifted my hand to his lips and pressed a deep, lingering kiss against my fingers.
"Silly girl. There'll be plenty of chances. I promise I'll take you. I swear it."
Then he hurried off to the compound. There was business with the captains that couldn't wait, there was always business that couldn't wait. The front door closed behind him and two soldiers fell into step at his back, their footsteps fading down the gravel drive.
I watched his retreating figure, straight-backed and sure, and sat there motionless for a long time.
Ermanno. There is no "plenty of chances" for us. Not anymore.
After Ermanno left, I sent someone to bring Katarina from the safehouse.
She arrived with one hand braced against the small of her back, walking at a leisurely pace. The soldier who'd driven her stood by the car until I nodded for him to go. When she reached me, she met my gaze without a flicker of fear.
"Gioia Galante. So you did recognize me yesterday."
I looked her over, head to toe.
A willowy frame, a face no bigger than the palm of a hand. A classic southern beauty.
I'd made inquiries in private. Three days after our wedding, Ermanno had been dispatched south to manage hurricane relief operations, the Family running aid contracts through the devastated parishes, half legitimate, half laundering front. That was where his entanglement with Katarina began.
He'd been caught in the floodwaters pulling survivors from a collapsed building. Delirious with fever, he mistook her for me. One reckless night, and he took her innocence.
Afterward, pitying her as an orphan with no one in the world, he brought her back to the city. Installed her in the safehouse. Spent every day at her side.
When I followed him there that day, I saw how exquisitely the place had been furnished. Every detail chosen with care. Ermanno must have loved her deeply.
A bitter ache spread through my chest.
Katarina noticed the look on my face. Satisfaction crept across hers.
"Gioia Galante. Everyone says Ermanno adores you. But the way I see it, you're the most pitiful woman alive."
Chapter 5"Your own husband slips poison into your medicine every single day, yet he and I are the ones expecting a child. Tell me, how does that make any sense?"
"You don't even know, do you? He comes to the safehouse every day. Every day. Have you ever seen the way he looks when he loses control in bed?"
"He's always telling me that women in the city are so dull. That I'm the only one who stirs something real in him. Every time, he pushes me so far I have to beg him to stop before he'll let me go..."
As she spoke, she loosened her clothes right in front of me, baring her body without shame.
Skin pale as silk, covered in bruises. Dark ones and faint ones, layered over each other. My throat tightened, and I looked away.
"Look, these are all the marks he left on me. He's always like this. Once he gets excited, he loses all control and leaves me so sore I can't get out of bed the next morning..."
"Ermanno told me that as long as you couldn't bear him a child, sooner or later the guilt would eat at you until you offered to let him take a second wife on your own. All I had to do was wait..."
She said so much in one breath, more than I could absorb. By the end, I realized there was nothing left inside me to feel.
Don Ermanno Santoro. What a brilliant strategist.
I slumped against the back of the chair. My thumb pressed hard against the inside of my ring finger, against the band that suddenly felt like a brand. A long time passed before I could force out a single sentence.
"If that's how it is, the position of his lawful wife is yours."
I didn't want to be Mrs. Santoro anymore.
I didn't want Ermanno Santoro anymore either.
After Katarina left, Ermanno sent a messenger back with word that Commission business had called him out of the city. He wouldn't return for two weeks at least.
Perhaps that was fate.
I packed my belongings calmly, climbed into the car already waiting beyond the estate's back gate, and drove south through the night until the city lights disappeared behind me.
Ermanno Santoro, perhaps you've forgotten what I once said to you.
"With heaven and earth as my witnesses, if the day ever comes that your heart changes, I will make sure you can never find me, not in this life, not in the next, not even in the depths of the afterlife."
Ermanno didn't return to the city until a full two weeks later. He didn't even stop to change out of his overcoat before rushing through the estate, past the soldiers who straightened at his approach, through the hall where the household staff went silent, and into the bedroom.
God only knew how desperately he'd missed that little woman he could never love enough, his darling moon, the one he wanted to pull into his very bones.
But when he pushed open the door, it was a different woman who looked up, one hand cradling her belly with a coy smile. Ermanno's heart plummeted.
"What are you doing in Gioia's room?"