"Victoria Marchetti." Dante's voice was neutral, but I felt the tension that ran through him. A warning I filed away.
"Don Caruso." Victoria's eyes swept over me with the frank assessment of a woman who had spent a lifetime cataloging other women's flaws. "And the new bride. How lovely you look, my dear. Green suits you."
"Thank you." I kept my voice warm. Gracious.
Victoria sipped her champagne, positioning herself so that nearby guests could hear without appearing to eavesdrop. I recognized the maneuver. I'd watched my mother use it at a hundred events before she died.
"Such a lovely match," Victoria said, her voice carrying just far enough. "The Morettis must be so relieved to finally find a use for you."
I felt a sudden spike of adrenaline.
"I suppose every family needs its broodmare."
Someone nearby inhaled sharply. A ripple of attention spread through the crowd—people pretending not to watch while watching intently. This was the game. The blood sport disguised as small talk. And I was supposed to crumble, supposed to flush and stammer and prove that Victoria Marchetti still had the power to wound.
Beside me, Dante went rigid. I felt the fury rising in him like heat off pavement—the protective instinct that had been there since the wedding, the part of him that wanted to put himself between me and anything that might hurt me.
My hand tightened on his arm.
Stay. Watch.
His jaw flexed. But he stayed.
I turned to Victoria with a smile so serene it could have hung in a museum.
"How kind of you to take an interest in my reproductive potential, Mrs. Marchetti." My voice came out smooth as honey. Warm. Almost friendly. "I understand the curiosity—your own children must be such a disappointment."
Victoria's smile froze. Something flickered behind her eyes—surprise, then the beginning of outrage.
I wasn't finished.
"Three sons, isn't it? And not one of them willing to take over the family business." I tilted my head, letting sympathy bleed into my expression. False sympathy. The kind that drew blood. "I heard the eldest moved to Portland to sell organic produce. The middle one is in therapy, last I heard. And the youngest—" I paused, letting the silence stretch. "Well. We don't talk about the youngest's gambling debts, do we? Some things are better left unmentioned in polite company."
Victoria's face had gone purple. Her champagne trembled in her grip.
"It must be exhausting," I continued, "watching your legacy crumble while you critique other women's wombs. I do hope you're taking time for self-care. Stress ages a person so terribly."
I sipped my champagne, letting the moment settle.
"Do enjoy the gala." My smile never wavered. "The shrimp puffs are exceptional."
I turned away before she could respond, steering Dante toward a cluster of guests who had been watching with barely concealed fascination. His arm was tense under my hand, coiled with something that might have been fury or something else entirely.
My champagne trembled in my grip.
I set it down on a passing waiter's tray before anyone could notice. Accepted a fresh glass. Wrapped my fingers around the stem and willed them to be still.
"That was magnificent," someone said—a woman with silver hair and kind eyes, someone's wife, someone's mother. "Victoria has been terrorizing these events for decades. It's about time someone put her in her place."
"She was simply making conversation." My voice came out smooth. Practiced. "I was happy to oblige."
The woman laughed. Others joined in. The circle expanded, drew me deeper into conversation about hospital funding andchildren's programs and all the safe, bloodless topics that made these galas bearable.
I performed. That was what I did. What I'd always done.
But my shoulders ached with the effort of holding them straight. My smile had gone brittle at the edges, threatening to crack if I pressed too hard. The adrenaline that had carried me through the confrontation was draining away, leaving something hollow in its wake.
I'd won. I knew I'd won. Victoria Marchetti would think twice before coming at me again—would think twice before coming at anyone connected to the Caruso name.
