chapter 5

I returned to the Corleone estate.

On the way, I bought three more pregnancy tests.

I prayed the first one had been wrong.

The three minutes of waiting felt like a lifetime.

I stared at the ceiling, whispering prayers to no one.

When I looked down again, the three test sticks lay neatly on the sink.

Every single one showed two lines.

I slid down against the wall and sat on the floor.

I tilted my head back and laughed until tears streamed down my face.

This was the dream I had chased for five years.

Now I had to kill it.

Not only that —

I had to make Luca pay.

For the Vitti family.

For the child inside me.

I scheduled the abortion.

One week later.

…

Two a.m.

Someone knocked.

I opened the door in my pajamas.

Luca stood outside.

He smelled of alcohol.

His jacket hung from one arm, tie loosened, hair messy.

He was carrying someone.

Sophia.

She was drunk, leaning against him.

“She drank too much,” he said.

“There’s no one to take care of her.”

I stepped aside.

Luca hesitated for a moment, then walked in.

Of course he did.

For five years, this was how it had always been.

He never worried about me.

Never worried I would protest.

I even went to the kitchen and poured two glasses of water.

Luca went to the bathroom.

Sophia collapsed onto the sofa, eyes unfocused, staring at me.

“Elena,” she murmured, “you really are easygoing.”

I ignored her and set the glasses down.

She soon drifted into sleep.

When Luca returned, the alcohol seemed to have worn off.

He suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Elena, we need to talk.”

“About what?”

I looked at him.

About how you abandoned me on our anniversary?

About how you chased your first love and left me alone?

About how you brought her home and showed me how much she mattered?

I pulled my hand away.

“But it’s fine.

Really.”

His face darkened.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re done.”

I looked straight at him.

“Five years, Luca.

I’m tired of pretending.”

“Pretending?”

His voice dropped, dangerous.

“You’re saying the last five years were fake?”

I laughed softly.

“Luca, you don’t seriously think it was real, do you?

From the moment you handed me that check,

we were both acting.”

That hit him.

I saw the anger surge in his eyes.

Funny.

He was angry because I said it was an act.

Why?

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring.

He went down on one knee.

“Elena.

Marry me.”

This was the moment I had waited five years for.

But that version of me was already gone.

“Using the same trick you used on Sophia…

doesn’t that embarrass you?”

“I’m serious.”

He was serious.

I wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes.

“You said you’d only marry me if I got pregnant.”

“What do you think this is?”

He pulled out the pregnancy test box.

I froze.

I had forgotten to throw it away.

“You’re pregnant,” he said.

“Aren’t you?”

My lips parted.

One word.

One word and everything I ever wanted would come true.

Marriage.

Status.

A future.

But then his voice from that day echoed in my mind.

“She won’t get pregnant.”

If I admitted it,

I would have to let go of my father’s blood,

of everything I swore to avenge.

If I denied it,

I would lose the dream I had chased for five years.

I took a breath.

And said —