The moment I appeared, every face in the room went white. The laughter died like someone had cut a wire. One of the capos set his glass down too carefully. Catarina's hand drifted toward the bassinet, a reflex she couldn't quite hide.
Tomasso released Catarina instantly and crossed the room in three quick strides. His voice turned gentle, almost tender. "What are you doing here? You're pregnant. You should be resting at home."
"I heard everything you just said."
I looked up at him. "You want to divorce me so you can register Catarina's baby under your name. Enter him into the Rossetti bloodline."
"Giovanna, I just feel sorry for her. You know she has nowhere else to go. I'm only doing this because she was Fausto's wife. He was like a brother to me. He saved my life..."
His hand moved as he spoke, and I saw it. His fingers drifted to his right palm, tracing the faint scar there. The blood-oath mark. Fausto's name, invoked like a shield, the way it always was.
He scrambled to explain. I cut him off, my expression blank. "I agree. Let's get divorced."
"Really?"
His eyes lit up. He hadn't expected me to say yes that easily.