He made a cutting gesture to Viktor. End the call.
Viktor shrugged, enjoying every second. "Of course. Family matters should be handled privately."
The damage was catastrophic. The room erupted—voices overlapping, accusations flying.
"You deceived us all!"
"The contract was for Bianca Lombardo—by name!"
I felt the hostility like a physical force. These men who'd smiled at me an hour ago now looked at me with suspicion, contempt, rage. They were angry, and it made sense–if Cesare chose to lie to them so easily aboutthis,what else was he willing to withhold from them?
Don Caruso's voice rose above the chaos: "Cesare. Explain yourself. Now."
Don Battaglia pointed directly at me. "Did you impersonate your sister? Was this your scheme to trap a Don into marriage?"
The accusation was so absurd, so insulting, I almost laughed.
Except there was nothing funny about being accused of conspiracy by men who could order my death with a word.
Don Caruso stepped closer: "Cesare. You stand here with a woman who is not the bride you contracted to marry. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Cesare's voice was steel: "I married a Lombardo daughter, as agreed. The alliance stands. Paola is my legal wife."
"Legal perhaps," Don Moretti interjected. "But honorable? You brought us here to celebrate—built on a foundation of lies."
"Not lies. Strategy. Adaptation. I did what was necessary to prevent war."
"By deceiving every family in this room," Caruso stated flatly.
Viktor added smoothly: "Perhaps this was simply unfortunate circumstance. Maybe the twins conspired together? A love match that went wrong?"
He was offering an out—but one that required admitting to planning the deception with me beforehand.
Making me complicit instead of the victim.
Cesare didn't take the bait: "What happened on my wedding day is between my wife and me. The marriage is consummated, legal, and binding."
"You want respect?" Don Battaglia's voice dripped contempt. "After making fools of us all?"
I could see it in their faces—the alliance fracturing. Cesare's authority crumbling.
Piero appeared at Cesare's other side. "My brother made a choice. Perhaps unconventional. But the marriage is legal. The question," Piero continued, "is whether we honor the spirit of the alliance or get caught up in technicalities. I wonder who benefits most from this chaos."
He looked directly at Viktor.
But Viktor was ready: "I profit from truth. From honor."
He'd positioned himself perfectly—the righteous truth-teller versus Cesare the deceiver.
The arguing continued—Dons taking sides, voices rising, chaos spreading.
I couldn't breathe.
All these men arguing about me like I was property, not a person.
I thought about Anna. Safe in her apartment, grading papers, living her normal life. She thought I was on some romantic honeymoon, happy and in love, though likely confused since I’d never told her about a man in my life.
She had no idea I was standing in a room full of mafia Dons who were deciding my fate like I was a business transaction.
