It had never occurred to me that there was another group. A second one. One I wasn't in. A parallel world running beneath the surface of my marriage, hidden the way this life hides everything, behind closed doors and careful silence.
Every time Tomasso's associates saw me, they kissed my hand and called me the Don's wife. Warm. Respectful. Familiar. They sat at my table during Sunday dinners. They brought gifts to the estate on holidays. They looked me in the eye and smiled.
And the whole time, behind my back, they'd already given Catarina a title of her own.
How ironic.
I yanked the bedroom door open and stormed out. The moment I reached the main hall of the estate, one of the household staff hurried toward me, her shoes clicking fast against the stone floor. "Signora Rossetti, you're awake! The second Signora Rossetti went into labor suddenly. The Don took her to the hospital!"
I stopped dead. "'Second Signora Rossetti'? Who told you to call her that?"