Chapter 2

I already knew. It was Isobel.

I turned back to the prenatal report on the table. The date was five weeks earlier.

Five weeks ago, Dante had disappeared for an entire night.

He'd told me he was up in Jersey handling a problem at the docks—something about a shipment going sideways.

Now I understood. He'd been with her. Watching the procedure. The one meant to "carry on the bloodline."

I'd been cut out of their plan from the beginning.

They'd only ever been waiting for me to find out. Not to agree.

I'd spent months looking forward to our wedding day. To walking in on Dante's arm. To standing with him at the altar.

Now all of it had turned to smoke, vanishing into the air without a trace.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of it.

It was Beatrice. Her voice came crisp through the speaker.

"Nina. I know you're about to get married, but I had to ask one more time. Are you absolutely sure you don't want to come join us?"

"You're Pemberton's most talented student. He still wants you on the research team."

"Given the wedding, he said he could make an exception—two months on, half a month off. That way you'd still have time with your husband."

My mentor, Professor Pemberton, had started a new surgical research program at the Milan International Medical Center. He'd called me six months ago to invite me.

But once I signed on, it meant cutting off my personal life entirely. Long stretches with no contact with anyone outside the program. A month. Maybe a year. Maybe longer.

Back then, I hadn't wanted to be away from Dante. So I turned it down.

Now Dante was about to become another woman's child's father.

If he'd never once considered our relationship or our marriage, this wedding had no reason to exist.

"Beatrice. I've made up my mind. I'll take the position. No leave—I'll run the full program schedule."

Her voice lit up with delight. "That's amazing! Professor will be so happy."

"When can you come? How about a week after the wedding? That way you can still take a honeymoon."

I answered softly, "No. The day of the wedding."

My eyes drifted to the calendar on the desk.

The tenth of next month. Circled hard in red marker.

I'd drawn that circle to count down to my wedding.

Now it was the countdown to walking out of Dante's life.

In fifteen days, Dante and I would be done for good.