“Like what?” Piper prompts gently.
“My stomach,” I say, the confession difficult despite their openness. “My thighs. My… everything, really. He gets angry when I try to hide from him. He made me look in the mirror while he…” I can’t finish, but I don’t need to. They understand.
“They see something in us,” Raven says softly. “Something we couldn’t see in ourselves.”
Piper nods, then fixes me with a direct gaze. “Alina, if you could walk away right now, completely free, would you?”
The question catches me off guard, but my answer doesn’t. “No,” I say, immediately shaking my head. Then, more firmly: “No, I wouldn’t.”
The admission surprises me as much as it does them, but I know it’s true. Despite how we began—despite the debt and the collection and the arrangement—I don’t want to leave. Whatever this is between Raffaele and me, I’m not ready to let it go.
“Well, you’re one of us now.” Raven clinks her water glass against mine with wine.
“Absolutely.” Piper joins us in a toast. “Through thick, thin, and apparently, Russo men. The Russo Women’s Auxiliary.”
I laugh, surprised by how natural it feels. “Is that what this is?”
“Absolutely,” Piper confirms. “We meet whenever we can. Drink copious amounts of alcohol and compare notes on their bizarre behaviors.”
“And I guess we also plan weddings,” Raven adds, nodding at me. “Speaking of which, do you have a dress yet?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. I don’t even know where I’d go to get one in my… umm… size.”
“Say no more,” Piper interjects, already pulling out her phone. “We’re going shopping tomorrow. I know exactly the boutique.” Her phone chimes with a text message, and her expression softens immediately. “Lorenzo,” she says, showing us the screen. “Yeah, they want us to take you shopping.”
As they begin discussing colors, cuts, and accessories, I feel something shift inside me. A tightness I hadn’t realized I was carrying starts to loosen.
These women understand. They’ve walked this path before me, navigating relationships that defy conventional definitions of love and choice.
The idea of shopping for a wedding dress tomorrow fills me with a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness.
One week until I become Alina Brewer-Russo.
One week until I tie myself permanently to a man who collected me like a debt but treats me like a treasure.
Chapter 28
Raffaele
The ice in my glass melts slowly as I stare into the crackling fire, the only sound in this too-empty library.
Midnight approaches, and I should be sleeping, but the bed upstairs feels wrong without Alina in it. Fucking bridal traditions. Who gives a shit about bad luck when I’ve already collected the only luck I need?
But she insisted, those blue eyes wide with something close to panic when I suggested ignoring the custom, so here I am, drinking alone while she sleeps in my bed with only her cat for company.
I take another sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat. The shadows dance across the walls of thelibrary, stretching and contracting with each flicker of the flames.
This room has always been my sanctuary, a place where I can think without interruption. Tonight, though, it feels hollow—a space missing something vital.
Missing her.
The thought catches me off guard. It’s only been an hour since I kissed her goodnight and retreated downstairs, yet I feel her absence like a physical weight on my chest. When did that happen? When did Alina Brewer become as necessary as oxygen?
I shake my head, refocusing on the package sitting on the desk before me. The gold frame catches the firelight, glinting like a promise. Inside, behind the glass, lies the deed to the bakery, the apartment, and the entire building—now transferred entirely into her married name.
Alina Brewer-Russo.
My fingers trace the edge of the frame, following the ornate patterns etched into the gold. The purchase from her sister cost me two million dollars, money I’d spend a hundred times over to see the look on Alina’s face tomorrow when I hand her this gift.
