Bianca’s POV
The Marchetti estate had a specific quality in the days after something went wrong.
She had grown up with it. Known it since childhood — the particular atmosphere of a house that was reorganizing itself around a wound. The staff moving more quietly. The doors closing with more care. The meals appearing and disappearing without the usual commentary. Everything functioning with the specific efficiency of people who understood that the man at the head of the house was in a state that required management and were managing it without being asked.
Santino Marchetti did not rage.
This was something people who didn’t know him failed to understand. They expected a man in his position — head of one of the three great families, publicly humiliated at a dinner table in front of witne
