He Traded A Diamond For Cheap Glass

The dining room was oppressively silent, save for the rhythmic scrape of silver against fine bone china.

I sat at the long table, directly opposite Donato De Luca, the Iron Don.

Alessandro sat to his right. Aria was not present at the table—she wasn't family, not yet—but her presence hung over us like a cloying, foul perfume.

"You are quiet tonight, Katarina," Donato said. His voice was rough with gravel and authority. He didn't look up from his steak.

"I am merely reviewing the accounts, Don Donato," I said.

I signaled to Mark, the Family's aspiring *Consigliere*, who stood waiting in the shadows.

Mark stepped forward and silently slid a stack of documents in front of the Don.

"I found irregularities in the Family Charity Fund," I said, my voice steady. "Parasitic expenses. Luxury goods. Hotel suites. Unmarked cash withdrawals."

Alessandro stopped eating. He glared at me over the rim of his wine glass.

"Administrative costs," Alessandro said quickly, dismissively.

"Fifty thousand dollars in designer handbags is not an administrative cost," I replied, not looking at him. I kept my eyes fixed on the Don. "It is theft. And theft weakens the legacy."

Donato flipped through the pages. His face darkened.

He valued strength and stability above all else. Waste was a mortal sin.

"Cut it," Donato ordered. He closed the folder with a finality that echoed in the room. "Cut all discretionary allowances for non-blood members immediately."

"Done," I said.

Alessandro slammed his fork down against the table. "Father—"

"Eat your dinner," Donato commanded.

*

Two hours later, I was sitting in the garden, a book open on my lap. I wasn't reading. I was waiting.

The scream came tearing from the driveway.

Aria stormed into the garden. She was holding her phone, her face flushed with ugly rage.

"My card was declined!" she shrieked. The moment she spotted me, she immediately switched masks. Her rage melted into a practiced pout. She limped toward me.

"Katarina," she whined. "There must be a glitch. Alessandro said I could buy the dress for the gala."

I turned a page of my book, feigning indifference. "Talk to the bank."

"You did this," she hissed, dropping the act instantly. She stepped closer, invading my personal space. "You frozen bitch."

She reached out to grab my arm.

I stood up abruptly. "Personal space."

Aria stumbled back. She looked at the soft, muddy grass, then at the gazebo where the other Capo wives were watching.

With a theatrical gasp, she crumpled to the ground.

"Ow!" she screamed, clutching her ankle. "She pushed me! Help!"

It was a pathetic performance.

But it worked.

Alessandro came running from the stables. He was still in his riding gear, smelling of leather and sweat.

He saw Aria on the ground and me standing over her.

"What did you do?" he roared.

He didn't ask. He accused.

He scooped Aria up into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing dry tears.

"I just wanted to ask her about the accounts," Aria whimpered. "She shoved me."

"I didn't touch her," I said coldly.

"Apologize," Alessandro demanded. His eyes were full of hate. "Now."

"No," I said.

The Capo wives were whispering behind their hands. They looked at me with disdain. To them, I was the jealous, barren wife attacking the poor, defenseless girl.

"You are heartless," Alessandro spat. "Jealousy makes you ugly, Katarina."

He turned and carried her toward the house, cooing at her like she was a wounded bird.

I stood alone in the garden.

The humiliation burned my skin like acid.

*

Later that afternoon, I went to the balcony.

I looked down at the riding ring.

Alessandro was there. He was leading a horse out of the stables.

My breath hitched painfully in my chest.

It was Obsidian. My horse. A black Friesian stallion that I had trained for three years. He was the only living thing in this house that I loved.

Alessandro handed the reins to Aria.

"He's big," Aria laughed, patting Obsidian’s velvet nose clumsily.

"He's the best horse we have," Alessandro said. His voice carried up to the balcony. "He's yours now. You deserve the best."

I gripped the stone railing until my nails cracked.

He wasn't just cheating on me. He was erasing me.

He was giving away the pieces of my soul to a woman who saw them as shiny toys.

I turned away from the railing.

I was done defending my territory.

It was time to start hunting.