Chapter 2

The black town car moved silently away from the Hudson Valley estate, heading down toward the narrow brick house in Tarrytown.

Eloise's mother had left her the house years ago, but after their marriage, Joseph had quietly transferred the deed into the Marchetti name.

After Joseph announced the trial and placed the ring on Holly's finger, he had packed up their lives and sent them here, treating the place like an exile camp he simply hadn't bothered to lock.

Through the glass, the slate-gray waters of the Hudson looked frozen under the late-afternoon sky.

Sophie sat rigidly against the leather seat, staring straight ahead.

Her palm remained clenched, the silver bracelet from last Christmas still pressed so hard against her skin that the edges had left a faint, crimson indentation.

"Seventeen years," Sophie said softly, her voice barely breaking the hum of the engine. "Holly was four months younger than me. That means while you were carrying me, he was already building a second family."

Eloise did not turn her head immediately.

She kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

But the muscles in her jaw tightened.

"Yes," Eloise said. Her voice was quiet, stripped of any comforting lies. "He was."

"And he kept her hidden in plain sight," Sophie continued, her voice trembling slightly before hardening. "Calling her his godchild. Making a fool out of both of us."

"He made a choice," Eloise said.

Sophie gave a dry laugh. "And what choice did he leave us?"

She turned her dark, furious eyes to her mother. "He owns the house. His men guard every road around it. Everyone at that table looked away before he even touched the ring. If I lose this stupid trial, we aren't even Marchettis anymore."

"How long have you known?" Sophie asked suddenly, the question hanging sharp in the cold air.

Eloise looked down at the silver bracelet trapped in her daughter's palm. "Long enough."

"That isn't an answer."

"I knew about Elissa," Eloise said, her voice dropping into a register of painful honesty. "I didn't know Holly was his daughter until later."

Sophie turned her face back toward the window. "And when you found out?"

Eloise took a slow breath. "I told myself leaving would put you in danger. I told myself staying gave me time to protect you."

"Did it?"

The question was quiet. That made it worse.

"Not enough," Eloise said.

They drove the rest of the way in silence, pulling up to the neglected Tarrytown house as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Inside the Tarrytown kitchen, the old radiator knocked twice before giving up again.

Eloise lit the stove and warmed a can of tomato soup.

It was the kind Sophie used to ask for after school, before she decided she was too old for comfort food.

Sophie sat at the chipped kitchen table while Eloise cleaned the red line across her palm.

The silver bracelet lay beside the salt shaker.

"Do you want me to put it somewhere safe?" Eloise asked.

Sophie looked at the bracelet for a long time. "Leave it there."

The soup had just begun to steam when the front doorbell rang.

It wasn't Joseph. It was the old consigliere.

He stood in the narrow hallway, brushing the cold mist from his heavy wool overcoat.

He looked older out here, away from the intimidating shadow of the council room, his posture slightly stooped with age.

Eloise met him in the dim light of the foyer.

She did not invite him into the parlor; she left him standing by the door.

"The Don has formalized the terms of the trial," the old man said, pulling a heavy manila folder from his coat.

He looked past Eloise to Sophie, who stood watching from the bottom of the stairs. "If Miss Holly wins, Sophie's name is removed from the family record. She loses her seat at all family ceremonies and leaves Marchetti territory with you within forty-eight hours."

Sophie's breath caught.

She stepped down onto the worn floorboards.

"And if I win? Does she lose hers?" Sophie asked, her voice steady.

"The same punishment applies to the losing daughter," the old man said. "She is removed from the registry."

Sophie shook her head once.

"I don't forgive her. I don't even know what she knew."

She opened her hand, looking down at the red line across her palm.

"But if I win, she keeps the guards. She keeps a place to live. I'm not becoming him just to beat her."

The old man stopped writing.

His eyes moved from Sophie's injured palm to Eloise.

He nodded slowly and jotted a note into the margin of the folder.

Eloise reached into the narrow drawer beneath the hall table.

From beneath a stack of unopened utility bills, she removed a heavy black envelope sealed with dark wax.

"Then add my terms," Eloise said, keeping her voice level. "Joseph signs the separation agreement. We leave with our freedom and no pursuit. He returns the deed to this house—my mother left it to me, and Joseph does not get to exile us into a home he stole and still call it mercy. And regardless of who wins the trial, both girls retain their security and their right to protection."

"The Don will never agree to those counterterms," the old man muttered.

"Then I invoke the witness rule," Eloise said.

The old man's expression changed.

"You know what that means," he warned. "Every recognized household will hear the terms. Every wife, every heir, every man who answers to Joseph."

"Good."

"You would expose both girls."

"Joseph exposed them the moment he turned fatherhood into a contest."

The old man sighed, knowing the weight of the law.

He opened the ledger. Joseph's signature sat above the blank space, dark and final.

Eloise took a pen, wrote her counter-conditions directly beneath Joseph's initial terms, and initialed the margin.

Then she slid the heavy black envelope across the table.

"Take the ledger back," Eloise said. "Tell Joseph to sign and seal my counterterms before the witnesses—or prepare to defend his own in front of every Marchetti household."

The old consigliere reached for the ledger.

His fingers touched the dark wax of the black envelope resting beside it.

Then they stopped.

He leaned closer, studying the faded mark beneath the scratches.

When he looked up, his face had changed.

"You brought that back into the valley?" he whispered.

Eloise did not answer.