You admired this label. I selected two pieces that would complement you.
Another chime.
When you're released, I'll have their people come to the compound. Buy out the entire collection if it pleases you.
And another.
Massima is a surgeon. Her hands are essential to her standing in the Family's operations. That's why I reacted as I did. Don't hold anger.
I stared at the screen, message after message materializing like ghosts. Tears blurred my vision until the words swam together, meaningless.
Finally, something inside me cracked.
"You can speak to her." My voice emerged raw, scraped hollow. "But not to me? We're sitting three feet apart, and you're still hiding behind a screen?"
I lifted my head, letting him see the tears cutting tracks down my cheeks. Letting him see exactly what his silence had cost.
"Is this deliberate? Is this how you punish me—with this wall of nothing?"
His face remained as still as carved marble. Those dark Volpe eyes, so legendary in their coldness, watched me without a tremor of emotion.
The silence stretched between us like a blade.
Then his head bowed, and his thumbs moved across the screen once more.
I'm sorry. I have selective mutism.
He reached into his jacket and produced a document, thick with legal seals, and gestured for me to sign.
I looked down. A property deed. The safe house we had called home for three years—the elegant brownstone in Volpe territory where I had built a life around his absences and his silences.
This is your compensation.
A sharp ringtone shattered the moment. I watched his jaw tighten almost imperceptibly as he lifted the phone to his ear.
The device had excellent sound insulation. I couldn't hear the voice on the other end.
But then he spoke.
"I'm on my way."
Two words. Spoken aloud. For her.
Massima.
I already knew.
I didn't hesitate. My fingers found my phone, navigating to the court filing system with the precision of someone who had rehearsed this moment in the darkest hours of too many sleepless nights.
Petition for dissolution of blood-bound marriage. Personal information for both parties. Marriage certificate. Under "proof of separation," I uploaded the property transfer document—evidence that the Young Don of the Volpe Family was already dividing our assets. I selected "decline mediation."
When I pressed submit, something in my chest finally loosened. A knot I hadn't realized I'd been carrying for three years.