Chapter 5 - The Sister in MourningI met Adriana Romano two days later.
She arrived at the estate in black, as if attending a funeral only she had been invited to. She was Victor’s younger sister by five years, but where Victor was winter, Adriana was a blade warmed in fire. Dark hair. Red mouth. Diamonds at her ears. Grief worn like perfume.
She kissed Leo first.
“My sweet boy,” she murmured, holding him too tightly.
Leo stood stiff in her arms.
Then she looked at me.
“So this is her.”
Victor’s hand settled lightly at my back. Not possessive. Not quite. More like a warning to the room.
“This is Mara,” he said. “My wife.”
Adriana smiled.
“Of course. The maid who became a saint.”
I felt Leo’s hand slide into mine.
That tiny movement gave me courage.
“I’m not a saint,” I said. “Saints probably have better health insurance.”
Victor’s mouth twitched.
Adriana did not laugh.
Her eyes traveled over my cane, my bandages beneath the cardigan, the ring Victor had placed on my finger.
“My brother always did like dramatic solutions.”
“Adriana,” Victor said.
“No, let me admire the romance.” She stepped closer. “Three bullets, one hospital wedding, and suddenly Alessia’s room has a new occupant.”
Leo’s fingers tightened.
I kept my voice calm. “Leo said I could stay there.”
Adriana’s face flickered.
Then she crouched before him.
“Is that true?”
Leo nodded.
“Why would you do that, darling?”
“Because Mara was cold.”
Adriana stared at him.
“And Mommy liked people warm,” Leo added.
For one second, Adriana’s mask cracked completely.
Pain. Pure and ugly.
Then it vanished.
She stood. “Children say strange things when traumatized.”
Victor’s voice sharpened. “Enough.”
Adriana looked at him. “You bring a stranger into Alessia’s room, give her Alessia’s place, put Alessia’s ring on her finger—”
“It is not Alessia’s ring,” Victor said.
I looked down.
The ring was simple. A single diamond set in platinum.
Not old. Not inherited.
New.
Something in Adriana’s accusation had failed.
She noticed.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Interesting.”
Victor turned to Dante. “Take Leo to the library.”
“I want to stay,” Leo said.
“No,” Victor and Adriana said together.
Leo flinched again.
I hated them both for that.
“Leo,” I said gently. “Will you draw me the garden from memory? I haven’t been outside.”
He considered this mission with serious eyes.
“From before the bad men?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
Dante led him away.
The moment Leo was gone, Adriana changed.
The softness disappeared. So did the grief. What remained was pure Romano.
“You married a liability,” she told Victor.
“I married the woman who kept my son breathing.”
“And now half the city thinks your judgment is compromised by guilt.”
Victor moved closer. “Did you send the scarf?”
Adriana froze.
There it was.
Not fear. Anger.
“How dare you.”
“Answer me.”
“You think I would threaten your wife?”
“I think someone wants me to believe you would.”
“And you believed it easily.”
Victor said nothing.
Adriana laughed, but it sounded wounded.
“After Alessia died, I held this house together while you turned yourself into a machine. I sat with Leo when he cried for his mother. I buried family secrets so deep they would not rot in front of him. And you think I would help someone who shot at him?”
Her voice broke on the last word.
For the first time, I believed her.
Victor did too, though it seemed to cost him.
“Who had access to your scarf?” he asked.
Adriana looked away.
“My driver. My housekeeper. My husband.”
Victor’s expression hardened.
“Luca.”
Adriana’s mouth tightened. “Do not say his name like that.”
“Your husband has hated me for seven years.”
“My husband hates being treated like furniture by this family.”
“He married into this family because he wanted power.”
“And you married her for what?” Adriana snapped, pointing at me. “Love?”
The room fell silent.
Victor’s hand fell from my back.
I knew the answer.
So did he.
“No,” he said.
The word should not have hurt.
It did anyway.
Adriana smiled sadly.
“At least you’re still honest.”
She turned to me.
“Be careful, Mara. My brother can protect a body. He has no idea what to do with a heart.”
Then she left.
Victor did not follow.
I stood beside him, exhausted and aching.
“You believe her?” I asked.
“I believe she loves Leo.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He looked toward the doors.
“No. I don’t believe anyone completely.”
“Not even me?”
His eyes returned to mine.
“You, I believe more than most.”
“Because I took bullets?”
“Because you asked about Leo before yourself.”
The answer sat between us, too intimate for the cold room.
Then the front doors opened again.
Dante entered quickly, his face grim.
“Boss.”
Victor turned.
“What?”
Dante held up a tablet.
On the screen was security footage from the hospital hallway. A fake orderly walking toward Caleb’s room.
His face was finally clear.
Victor stared.
Adriana had been right.
It was not her.
May you like
It was worse.
The fake orderly was Patricia, Leo’s fired nanny.
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