"Let's go," he said, and the two of them walked off like the perfect little couple. Elena's arm threaded through his. One of the enforcers fell into step behind them, hand resting near the holster beneath his jacket.
And that's when it hit me. No matter what I did, I'd never be Elena. Never be the one they chose. I'd never be enough.
A single tear slid down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly.
I kept my head down, ignoring the stares from the family associates as I waited for the documents for the island property to be finalized. I just needed to leave. Vittorio promised to keep quiet about it, that he'd manage things until Damiano's name was formally put forward for the succession.
Later that day, I returned to the compound after handling finances and a sit-down with the capos. Elena approached me, beaming, and grabbed my hand.
"Sis! It's been forever since we went out together. Damiano's racing tomorrow. Come with me. Don't just stay holed up here, mourning Dante," she said sweetly. Her smile appeared a fraction before her eyes agreed with it.