The Bastard Bride of Saint Giovanni

Adrian had been gone less than five minutes when Albert Rosario approached.

He was the second son of the Rosario family, known for dirty hands and a worse reputation. He leaned close to my neck and inhaled.

"Miss Sorrento, you smell good tonight."

I did not turn. "Albert. Stay away."

"Adrian told me to bring you a drink." He laughed. "I ignored him. Don’t you think he’s lost his mind? Sending me to wait on you."

I faced him.

His eyes were dull with alcohol.

"I told you not to put all your faith in the Camerlanos. You should have learned to rely on me too. But now look at you. No signet, no protection."

"Move."

"No." His hand landed on my shoulder. "Grace, if you didn’t have that face, do you think a bastard like you would still be untouched? You really believe the Camerlanos will protect you forever?"

Before he could press harder, another hand caught his wrist and twisted it outward.

Albert’s face drained of color.

Adrian’s voice was cold above him. "Didn’t I tell you not to touch what’s mine?"

"You didn’t choose her tonight," Albert said through clenched teeth. "You chose Lucia. And you’re still keeping Grace?"

"What belongs to me is not your concern."

Adrian released him. Albert stumbled back, cursed, and left.

Adrian turned to me.

"He touched you and you didn’t fight back?"

I met his gaze. "Fight back? Do you think everyone is allowed to touch me tonight?"

"That’s not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

He hesitated.

"You know what kind of night this was. I couldn’t spend the whole time focused on you."

"I never asked you to. I asked you to keep one promise. One signet. Was that really beyond you?"

He was silent for a long time.

Finally, he said, "Grace, don’t make this bigger than it is."

That was his answer.

Lucia approached with a glass of champagne. Tear tracks still marked her face, but her steps were steady.

Adrian glanced at the glass. "You can drink?"

"I want to try tonight," she said, eyes fixed on him.

One sharp and guarded, one soft and newly opened. It was not hard to see which one he chose.

"Good," he said. "Tonight is yours."

He looked at me once more. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

Then he left.

Tomorrow.

The flight from Port Saint Giovanni to Chicago was only three and a half hours.

You can come find me in Chicago tomorrow, I thought.

Lucia stayed behind. The timid look vanished from her face, and with the Camerlano signet pinned at her collarbone, she stood before me like she already owned the room.

"Grace," she said quietly, "you already have everything. Can’t you let me have this one night?"

When Adrian had once asked me to choose an orphan for him to sponsor, I had chosen Lucia.

I had brought her into this world myself.

"You grew up with everything," she continued. "I had nothing. All I want is Adrian’s protection for one night."

"What makes you think I am any different from a dog in the Sorrento household?"

"At least you have the Sorrento name."

I said nothing.

She did not understand.

The Sorrento matriarch looked at me like an account waiting to be cleared. My father had twenty-three acknowledged children, and bastard daughters were placed at the very end.

I had not survived because I carried the Sorrento name.

I had survived because at twelve, I knelt in Vincent Sorrento’s study and asked him to teach me, protect me, and stand between me and the blade when it mattered.

Vincent was my father’s younger brother, and the only man in the Sorrento family who had ever treated me as useful instead of disposable.

He had never been a man who smiled.

"Your father has twenty-three children," he said then. "Why should I choose you?"

"Because I have nowhere else to go. Someone with no way out will never betray you."

After a long silence, he said, "Stand up."

That was the beginning.

Vincent helped me then because desperation made me loyal. Tonight, he would not help me because the Sorrentos had already chosen their deal, and I was no longer worth the risk.

The result of the Claiming Rite had decided my fate. The Sorrentos wanted an alliance with the Rizzos in Chicago and would not sacrifice a legitimate daughter.

So they would send me.

His message came quickly.

[Handle it yourself.]

I let out a quiet laugh.

Back then, when he told me to stand, my legs had been shaking. Now, when he told me to handle it, I stood without hesitation.

I had to stay.

If I left Port Saint Giovanni tonight, I might never come back as Grace Sorrento. I would come back as a Rizzo’s wife, or not at all.

Lucia’s hand brushed mine. Her skin was warm against my cold fingers.

She leaned closer.

"Grace, do you think Adrian actually knows what the signet means?"

She smiled and stepped back.

"Think about it."