chapter 4

Seven p.m.

Manhattan.

Jean-Georges.

I wore the red off-shoulder dress Luca had given me.

The diamond necklace he bought last year rested against my collarbone.

Luca was already waiting at the entrance.

He wore a dark gray suit.

The sharp lines of his body made the air around him feel dangerous.

When he saw me, his eyes brightened.

“You look beautiful,” he said, lifting my hand and kissing my knuckles.

“Let’s go.”

The restaurant had been completely reserved.

A long table draped in white.

A massive bouquet of red roses in the center, each one flawless.

Crystal chandeliers scattered light across crystal glasses.

Everything felt unreal.

The waiter pulled out my chair.

As soon as we sat, Luca said,

“I invited one more guest. You don’t mind, right?”

“I don’t.”

I never had a choice.

The doors opened.

Sophia walked in.

She wore a champagne-colored gown.

Golden hair in loose waves over her shoulders.

Her makeup was perfect, untouchable.

When she saw us, she paused for half a second, then smiled and walked over.

“Luca. Elena. Long time no see.”

Luca gestured.

“Sit.”

She took the seat across from me.

“Elena,” she said lightly, “I hear you’ve been doing well.”

“Thanks to Luca.”

She lifted the menu.

“He’s always generous.”

Gianna once told me Sophia had gotten herself into serious trouble abroad.

Huge debts.

The Rossi Family nearly drained itself to rescue her.

The Corleones were at the height of their power.

Everyone understood why she had returned.

The dishes arrived.

During the first three courses, Luca played the perfect lover.

He cut my steak.

Poured my wine.

His fingers brushed the back of my hand again and again.

His gaze was so gentle it could drown someone.

Sophia’s smile grew tighter with every minute.

When the main course was cleared, Luca said suddenly,

“Sophia, take a picture for us.”

She froze.

“What?”

“Five-year anniversary,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“It’s worth remembering.”

He handed her my phone.

Her fingers were trembling.

She raised the camera.

Luca lowered his head and kissed my forehead.

“Smile, baby.”

I smiled.

I smiled like I was truly happy.

The flash went off.

In the same second, Sophia slammed the phone onto the floor.

“Enough!”

She stood up, tears breaking free.

“Luca, what do you want from me?”

He slowly released me, calm and composed.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re doing this on purpose!”

Her makeup was smeared with tears.

“You’re being good to her in front of me on purpose.

You made me take your picture on purpose.

You hate me that much?

Because I rejected you back then?”

Luca said nothing.

He just looked at her.

“I know I was wrong…”

Her voice softened, shaking.

“I was selfish. I was stupid.

But we’ve known each other for so many years.

Do you really have no feelings left for me?”

She was trembling, fragile, beautiful in her brokenness —

the kind of beauty no man could resist.

She turned and ran.

Almost instantly, Luca stood.

He looked at me.

Guilt.

Conflict.

Struggle.

Then he left me.

He ran after Sophia.

I watched him disappear through the restaurant doors.

I knew he still loved her.

But I didn’t know I would lose this completely.

For a moment — just one moment —

I had imagined he might choose me.

That maybe for the child,

I could forget the hatred, forgive everything, try to live.

But now that illusion shattered.

I bent down and picked up my phone from the floor.

The screen was cracked.

The last image still frozen there —

me smiling like I was in love,

Luca looking at me with eyes so gentle.

All of it was a lie.

I dropped the phone into the trash.