Chapter 3

Nico's car pulls up in front of my house just as Dante slides into Valentina's.

He doesn't check if I'm watching.

He doesn't look back for his wife.

He doesn't hesitate the way men of honor usually do.

He just goes.

Like violating your marriage vows is as casual as skipping Sunday Mass.

I inhale sharply and get into Nico's passenger seat.

He takes one look at me, and his consigliere instincts sharpen. "He did something."

"He did everything," I whisper.

"Tell me where we're going."

"Serenity Peaks Resort."

His jaw flexes. "Seatbelt."

—

The drive blurs past pine trees and winding mountain roads.

The wealthy love altitude, clear sight lines, private territory—

and Dante picked a perfect place to betray his family honor.

I don't cry.

I don't break down.

I only feel focus—granite-hard, cold.

The kind of focus my Sicilian grandmother taught me.

By the time the resort gates appear, my heartbeat is steady.

Dangerously steady.

Like someone walking into a vendetta they've already accepted.

Nico parks near the private cabins his family owns.

He steps out first. "My place is secluded. You'll see everything without being spotted."

I nod.

A made man's greatest weapon is surveillance.

Funny how Dante forgot I come from the same world.

The cabin is warm, small, lined with tall glass windows overlooking the lake and the activity grounds below.

A perfect view of every oath violation he'll commit.

Nico hands me binoculars. "Gabriella… you don't have to do this."

"Yes," I say. "I do."

Because I spent years ignoring disrespect I convinced myself wasn't there.

Now I'm making myself see.

—

Dante arrives with Valentina minutes later.

Members of their crew—The Commission—gather around them, greeting with embraces, kiss-kiss cheek greetings, easy laughter.

Family intimacy.

None of it includes me.

Valentina's hand slides around Dante's waist.

His arm drops to her shoulder like muscle memory.

My breath turns sharp.

"They're bold already," Nico mutters.

Bold?

No.

Comfortable.

Because they've been disrespecting the family code long before today.

I lift the binoculars.

The motions kill me in small, deliberate cuts:

Valentina adjusting his collar near the oath scar—

a territorial gesture that violates everything sacred.

Dante leaning down when she whispers—

letting her breath touch where only a wife's should.

Dante laughing, that soft rumble he once saved for me.

My chest tightens into a cold, hard ball.

My marriage didn't end today.

It ended months ago.

I'm only now accepting the corpse.

—

Later, the Crew drags chairs around a fire pit.

They form a circle—traditional family seating.

I shouldn't care.

But I do.

Because he used to pull me into his lap at gatherings like this.

Because that's what husbands do—they show their wives respect in front of the family.

Now someone else sits where I once fit.

Carmine raises a bottle of Sambuca. "Alright! 'Most Likely To!' Dante—most likely to take a bullet for you at 3 a.m.?"

Valentina taps Dante's chest lightly—a flirting gesture. "Please. That's my man."

My chest hollows.

Luca snickers. "Facts. He's always there for her."

They aren't even pretending to respect the code anymore.

My phone buzzes.

Nico: You okay?

Me: No. Keep watching.

—

Then I see Valentina take Dante's phone to take a selfie.

The screen lights up with my name.

Incoming Call: Gabriella.

Both freeze.

Then Dante hits decline.

Just like that.

Like his wife's call means nothing.

Valentina smirks and flips his phone face down. "Don't let her interrupt. This weekend is ours."

Ours.

Something in me snaps—

another sacred vow cutting loose inside my chest.

Dante nods.

He nods.

I nearly choke.

Nico curses in Italian. "Madonna. He didn't."

"He did."

I put down the binoculars.

My body stops shaking—

becoming terrifyingly still.

The way Sicilian women get before they plan revenge.

Then the universe decides I need one last wound.

Valentina asks, loud enough for the whole group:

"Dante, who's listed as your emergency contact now?"

He shrugs. "Gabriella, I guess."

Guess.

Guess.

"You should change that," Valentina says lightly.

"Yeah," Dante answers. "I should."

Nico straightens. "Gabriella—"

"It's fine," I say.

It's not fine.

But something solidifies inside me—

the final shift from loyal wife to avenging woman.

I stand. "Nico, do you have cameras around the public areas?"

He hesitates. "…Yes."

"I want every angle with audio."

"Gabriella—"

"Per favore."

He studies me, then nods. "Va bene."

I walk back to the window.

Dante and Valentina collapse together onto a picnic blanket, limbs tangled like they have no respect for sacred bonds.

And that's when it ends.

Not with cheating.

Not with lies.

Not with the nights he didn't come home.

It ends with a made man looking relieved to finally stop honoring his vows.

Nico's voice is quiet. "What now?"

I close the binoculars.

"Now?"

I turn away from the scene that destroyed the last piece of my marriage.

"Now I show him what happens when you break omertà."

Because in our world—

Betrayal always comes with a price.