Marcello can play his games, charm the world, and tell me a thousand sweet lies. But this time, I won't stay.
I slipped my documents into my bag, flagged a cab, and told the driver to take me to the Castellano estate.
The moment I walked into the villa, something hit me. A strange, heavy smell clung to the air, sweet and bitter all at once. My stomach twisted.
And then I saw them.
Marcello was standing on a ladder, pinning decorations to the wall. Beside him, Serafina Santoro smiled like she owned the place.
When the door clicked shut behind me, Marcello turned. His hands froze mid-air, then he came down slowly, carefully. The cold Don everyone feared disappeared in an instant. His eyes softened, his lips curved into that practiced smile that used to melt me.
"Arianna, baby… why are you dressed so light? You'll catch a cold. Didn't you go out with your friends? Why'd you come home so soon? I was planning to surprise you."
Surprise.
My gaze slid up to his neck. There it was. A fresh hickey, deep and red, mocking me.
My chest squeezed, but I forced myself to blink it away.
I said nothing.