YOU CAN STAND TONIGHT, SARAH. THERE'S NO ROOM LEFT AT THE TABLE.” MY MAFIA HUSBAND LET HIS MISTRESS TAKE MY CHAIR IN FRONT OF TWENTY-FOUR RELATIVES—BUT HIS 83-YEAR-OLD GRANDMOTHER NOTICED SOMETHING ON THE WOMAN'S PHONE AND ORDERED EVERYONE TO STAY SEATED

“A child,” Nonna Vittoria whispered, crossing herself. “You have a child?”

I felt like the floor had opened up and swallowed me. Six years of negative pregnancy tests. Six years of crying in the bathroom while Vincent held me, whispering that it would happen when the time was right.

He had a son. And Madeline was going to be the mother.

“How old is he?” I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.

Vincent couldn’t meet my eyes. “Six.”

Six. The exact length of our marriage.

“He’s not Madeline’s,” Vincent said quickly, his voice desperate. “His mother passed away. I swear to you, Sarah, Madeline is just… she was just a cover.”

“A cover?” Madeline snapped. “I practically raised Leo for the last year while you played happy family with her!”

I took a step back, bumping into the empty chair. The chair Madeline had taken.

I understood now. The mistress. The camera. The psychiatric hearing tomorrow.

“You wanted to take my estate to secure your territory,” I said, piecing it together. “And you wanted me locked in a hospital so I couldn't fight you for custody. So you could move your son—and her—into my home.”

“No!” Vincent grabbed my shoulders. “Sarah, you don't understand the danger we are in. If the council knew about Leo, they would use him against me. I had to push you away. I had to make it look like our marriage was failing!”

“By humiliating me in front of your entire family?” I shouted, tears finally spilling over.

Vincent looked desperate. “I had a plan to get you out safely. Check my coat. In the hallway.”

I ran to the foyer. I dug into the pockets of his black cashmere overcoat. My fingers brushed against a crisp paper envelope.

I pulled it out. An airplane ticket. First-class.

One way to Rome. Departing tonight at 11:00 PM.

But as I looked at the name on the ticket, my heart froze.

It didn't say Sarah Romano.

It said Madeline Pierce.

I turned around. Vincent was standing in the doorway, looking at the ticket in my hand.