"Tonight. At the restaurant." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "James was... informative."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning James Rogers had a secret fiancée up until very recently."
Mamma's sharp intake of breath cuts through the room. "What?"
"It's true." I turn to face her directly. "He told me himself. Bragged about it, actually. Said he ended things with her because I was the better political move."
"That's not possible." Mamma shakes her head, her perfectly manicured nails pressing into her palms. "His mother never mentioned another woman. We spoke just last week about?—"
"About our wedding?" I finish for her.
The color drains from her face.
"Yeah." I nod slowly. "James told me that too. Said you and his mother were already planning a June ceremony. Without asking me. Without telling Pietro."
Pietro rises from his chair, and for a moment, I see the Don. The man who commands a criminal empire. His eyes sweep from me to our mother with barely contained fury.
"What thehellis wrong with everyone in this house?"
Mamma stands, her posture defensive. "I was trying to protect her?—"
"By arranging her marriage behind my back?" Pietro's voice rises. "Behindherback?"
"The Rogers family has connections we need. And is a good family." Mamma's chin lifts. "I was doing what was best for this family."
"You were doing whatyouthought was best." Pietro stalks around his desk. "Without consulting me. Without consulting Vittoria. In direct violation of everything we agreed to when I became Don."
Bruno laughs—a cold, bitter sound that makes my skin crawl. "Welcome to the club, Pietro. Being undermined by your own family. How does it feel?"
"Bruno." Nico's voice is a warning.
"No, let him talk," Pietro snaps. "Let everyone just say whatever the fuck they want, apparently. That's how we operate now."
I push to my feet. "Pietro?—"
"Sit down." His command is sharp enough to cut glass.
I don't sit. "I chose Dmitri."
"You chose himtonight. After going to dinner with another man. After keeping secrets. After?—"
"After being treated like I had no say in my own future?" I hold his stare. "Yes. I did what I had to do to figure out whichoption was less terrible. And you know what I found out? James Rogers is a manipulative, entitledstronzowho thought he could threaten me into compliance. He told me the Sartori family is growing weak. That weneedhis father's political protection."
Nico pushes off the bookshelf. "He said that?"
"Word for word." I cross my arms. "So yes. I chose the Russian. Because at least Dmitri Baganov doesn't pretend to be something he's not."
Mamma's voice is small. "Vittoria..."
I look at her. And I see the fear beneath the carefully constructed mask of maternal authority. She's scared. Scared of losing control.
But fear doesn't excuse deception.
"You should have told me," I say quietly. "About the meeting with his mother. About the plans. I deserved to know."
Her eyes glisten. "I only wanted?—"
