Seven years ago. Our honeymoon on that island. I'd looked just once at a man with abs. Marcello lost his mind so he kept me locked inside the suite for a week. The bodyguards stood outside the door the entire time, and not one of them knocked. Not once. In this world, when the Don closed a door, it stayed closed.
When the bed broke and the supplies ran out, he pulled me close. "Arianna, I've got everything you need. Don't look at anyone else. Just promise me."
I had promised him. Over and over.
And since then, I never dared to even glance at another man. But now, he was just as obsessed. Just not with me. With her.
I sank deeper into the water and let out a shaky breath.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, Serafina was gone. Only Marcello was sitting there, calm as if nothing had happened. The house was quiet in that particular way it got when the guards had been told to make themselves scarce.
On the table, there was a plate of neatly sliced fruit and a steaming cup of ginger tea. The sight made my chest tighten.
He stood and handed me the cup. "I know your period's close. This will help with the cramps."
The heat from the cup seeped into my hands, but inside, I felt ice cold. How could he act so normal? Just minutes ago, he was tearing at Serafina's clothes. Now here he was, pretending to be the perfect husband. The Don of the Castellano Family, performing devotion with the same hands that had just been on another woman's body.
I didn't sleep much that night. My mind kept circling back to the same question: how many faces does he have?
Sometime before dawn, I must've drifted off. A sudden shout yanked me awake.
"Arianna!"
He jolted up, hands searching wildly in the dark until he found me. His chest heaved, his grip crushing me against him. "Don't go. Please… don't leave me."
I froze in his arms. "What's wrong with you?"
His eyes were red, his breath still uneven. "I dreamt you walked away from me. It was hell, Arianna. I woke up and you were here. Thank God you're here."
I looked down, words heavy on my tongue. I wanted to tell him the dream would come true soon. But I stayed quiet. My thumb found the inside of my left wrist and traced the skin there, slow, deliberate, while he held me in the dark and didn't notice.