Chapter 2

Matteo came home after two in the morning, still wearing the tuxedo in which he'd proposed to Bianca.

I had left the television muted above the fireplace.

Every news channel showed Bianca beneath the Rinaldi crest, holding up the ring Matteo had once promised me.

He stopped beside the kitchen island. "The engagement is part of the Salvatore alliance. It isn't real."

"You put my ring on her finger."

"I needed the cameras to believe me."

"Does Bianca know she'll never be your wife?"

Matteo took off his cuff links and set them on the counter.

"Bianca knows our families need this agreement."

It wasn't an answer.

"How long will you be engaged?"

"A few months. Once the agreement is signed, we'll end it quietly."

He reached for my hand.

I pulled it into my lap.

"Nothing has changed between us," he said.

"The entire country watched you choose her."

"They watched a performance."

"You should've told your wife before the performance started."

"Go to bed, Matteo."

He carried his cuff links down the hall and shut the guest-room door.

At nine, the concierge called from the lobby.

Bianca was downstairs with two assistants and several boxes from the Rinaldi atelier.

Before I could answer, Matteo crossed the room and pressed the button to let them upstairs.

Bianca arrived in a cream suit with my ring displayed against the handle of an ivory portfolio.

"Good, Elena's here," she said. "I need the bridal set ready for the first fitting."

One assistant spread sketches across my dining table.

A diamond necklace, earrings, and bracelet appeared beneath the words SALVATORE-RINALDI WEDDING COLLECTION.

"The house design team can handle these," I said.

Bianca smiled. "Matteo says no one understands Rinaldi diamonds the way you do."

She tapped the necklace with one polished nail.

"I wouldn't trust anyone else with the jewelry I'll wear beside him."

Another assistant opened a leather calendar.

Villa Bellini had reserved September eighteenth for the wedding.

Deposits had already been paid to the florist, photographer, and caterer.

"Matteo's mother approved the chapel this morning," Bianca said. "She wants the announcement released next week."

I turned to Matteo. "Is the chapel part of the performance too?"

"Every detail has to look convincing," he said.

Bianca studied us for a moment, then slid the sketches toward me.

"Friday will be fine," she said. "Matteo knows how quickly you work when his family needs something."

She left with her assistants, taking the contracts and leaving the jewelry designs behind.

Matteo closed the portfolio. "There won't be a wedding."

"She has a date, a chapel, and three paid vendors."

"When the alliance is secure, I'll cancel everything."

He pushed the portfolio toward me.

"Please review the designs. We can't give the Salvatores a reason to doubt us now."

Five years earlier, I'd packed my tools for a six-month master program in Florence.

Then Rinaldi House lost a designer days before an important private order was due.

Matteo asked me to delay my trip for three weeks and save the collection.

I stayed, finished the order, and missed the enrollment deadline.

Three weeks had turned into five years of designing jewelry under his family's name.

"I'll look at them," I said.

His shoulders relaxed. "I knew you'd understand."

He kissed the top of my head and left to meet Bianca's father.

I waited until his car passed through the gates.

Then I moved Bianca's sketches aside and searched the state bar directory.

I chose a family-law attorney whose firm had never represented the Rinaldis.

Her receptionist found an appointment for me that afternoon.

"I need a divorce petition and proposed settlement prepared by tomorrow," I told her.

The attorney paused. "Does your husband know you're filing?"

I looked at Bianca's wedding date written across the open calendar.

"No," I said. "He thinks I'm designing his bride's necklace."