“Has he?” The old man laughs. “That’s good to hear. It’s important for families to unite properly. Too much blood has been spilled over old grudges.”
“Yes,” I agree, because what else can I say? “Too much blood.”
More people come. More congratulations, more careful questions, more assessment disguised as courtesy. Everyone wants to see the Romano girl who married Valenti. Everyone wants to know if I’m broken yet.
I smile until my face hurts.
Then I see her.
Marcella Valenti, holding court near the bar, surrounded by society women who hang on her every word. She’s wearing black, despite this being a celebration, her pearls gleaming at her throat. When she sees us, her expression doesn’t change. Just a slight tightening around her eyes.
“Your mother is here,” I murmur to Luca.
“Of cou
