I'd brought this up to him more times than I could count, but he always said it wouldn't happen again. Yet here we were, and every time it did, he'd call me petty. He'd say I was being difficult. He'd say the Family needed peace and I was the one disturbing it.
Honestly, the best moment we ever had was when he proposed.
That night was something else. He'd taken me up to the ridge above the city, the old lookout point where the Valente men used to keep watch during the wars of the seventies. The stars felt so close I could almost reach them. The city sprawled below us, all those territories and borders reduced to a carpet of distant light. Under that sky, he slipped a ring on my finger, looking more serious than I'd ever seen him. His vows were heartfelt. His voice didn't waver. He went all out for that moment, and I believed every word.
That was the cruelest part. He'd meant it. He just hadn't meant it enough.
When Simone noticed I hadn't replied to his messages, he called. His voice was controlled, the way it always was when he needed something from me. "Darling, I've booked a private room for everyone to apologize to you. Please don't make a scene."