I turned slowly, and there he was. Marcello. His face had gone pale, like someone had pulled the ground out from under him.
"What visa?" he asked, his voice low but trembling.
My heart skipped, but I forced a small smile. "Not mine. A friend of mine's planning to move abroad. She just called to ask me about it."
For a second, he just stared at me, like he didn't quite believe it. Then suddenly, he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. His body was actually shaking. The silver ring on his right hand pressed cold against my spine where his fist clenched the fabric of my dress.
"Arianna," he whispered into my hair, his voice raw, "don't ever leave me. I thought for a moment you were going to disappear. I can't… I can't live without you."
I rested my hand lightly on his back, pretending to soothe him. On the outside, I smiled faintly, calm and steady. Inside, though, my heart was already somewhere else. I knew the truth. I was leaving soon.
That afternoon, while he was tied up with the Family's capos in the war room on the second floor, I slipped away. I went straight to the consulate office and signed the last of my papers. My hands were trembling, but my mind had never been clearer.
That night was the Castellano Family's annual gala. Everyone was there. Allied families, business fronts, politicians on the payroll, soldiers in tailored suits who looked almost civilized under the chandeliers. The grand ballroom of the Castellano hotel glittered with lights and champagne glasses.
I wore something simple. Quiet. I wanted no attention. Serafina, on the other hand, walked in wearing a blood-red dress that clung to every curve. All eyes followed her.
I caught Marcello choking a little on his drink when he saw men crowding around her. He smiled like a perfect host, but his jaw ticked. His rage was simmering under the surface.
Guests kept whispering about me, how lucky I was. How Marcello was "so obsessed" with me. Allied bosses toasted to his devotion, calling me the envy of every woman in the room.
When a man offered Serafina a drink, Marcello stepped in, took the glass, and downed it himself. His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Can't risk my friend's sister being taken advantage of," he said smoothly.
Serafina chuckled, tilting her head. "Careful, Marcello. If you keep acting like this, Arianna might get jealous."