I Don't Want the Ring or You

For our fifth anniversary, I planned to bid on a pink diamond ring. A young woman outbid me. I followed her outside to ask if she would consider selling it to me. She stood at the curb, showing the ring on her hand to the friend who had come with her. "I'm already tired of this one. "So my boyfriend told me to pick out something I liked for our first anniversary." I stopped. She would never part with an anniversary gift. Reese was busy handling the smuggling trade along the coast and could not come with me. He had only said he would not be home for dinner and told me to buy myself something nice to celebrate. When I heard her say her boyfriend had a candlelit dinner waiting for her, I smiled and envied their young love. My car pulled up. As I was about to get in, she turned around. I saw the ring on her hand, the one she was already tired of. My breath caught. Cold shot from the soles of my feet to the base of my skull. It was the ring Reese had given me last year, then discarded because it did not fit. Chapter 1 Her car arrived too. I recognized it immediately. It was Reese's private car. He never let anyone else ride in it. Even I, his wife, rarely had that privilege. She tapped lightly on the window and crooked a finger playfully at whoever was inside. "Emily, you're still such a brat!" A hand pulled her into the car, possessive and indulgent at once. My driver, Charles Bennett, opened my door, but I did not move. Reese Moretti and I had been married for five years. He was the Don the Mafia feared and respected. His men obeyed him without question, and so did I. With Emily, however, he looked like a gentle, attentive boyfriend. Emily reached one arm out the window and casually tossed an old ring onto the pavement. The car sped away and vanished from sight. I stared at the ring rolling across the ground as cold spread through me. On our anniversary the year before, I had found that ring in Reese's pocket and could barely contain my excitement. But he had gotten the size wrong. It would not slide onto my finger. "Look at me. I actually forgot your size! "Listen, Rebecca. I'll buy you a new one, and it will fit perfectly." We happily finished three bottles of Lafite, and I stopped worrying about the ring. The replacement he promised never came. Now I finally knew where the first ring had gone. The size had never been wrong. The ring had never been meant for me. I was only the woman he placated when necessary. Charles urged me, "Donna, please get in." I climbed into the car, and Charles said, "Donna, the Don is handling a shipment at the harbor tonight. He won't be back. "He asked me to tell you not to wait for him at dinner." I ignored the message and called Reese. "I wanted a pink diamond ring at the auction today, but someone else bought it." Everyone at the auction house knew I belonged to Chicago's Moretti family. No one dared take what I wanted. Silence held for two seconds before Reese answered, sounding distracted. "Darling, auctions are full of rings. You'll find one that suits you better. In the future, don't bother me with something this trivial." The cold inside me spread. I tightened my grip on the phone as streetlights slipped past the window one by one. I remembered the light in his eyes when he slid a ring onto my finger before all our wedding guests. That light belonged to someone else now. Two blocks later, I told Charles to turn around and take me to the nearest coffee shop. I had asked Mary Doyle, the Moretti family's longtime housekeeper, to meet me there. She had served the family for twenty years and knew every secret they had. Chapter 2 In the car, I replayed what I had just seen. Reese had guided Emily's ringed hand to the crest on his chest, the symbol of his family's honor. The diamond caught the blue-green of his eyes, and Emily looked radiant. His face had lost the hard expression I knew. It looked more like snow melting in spring. At the coffee shop, Mary sat across from me with her silver hair perfectly arranged and her hands trembling slightly. "Donna, Miss Emily hasn't actually been with the Don for long. "She's a naive girl." I stirred my hot chocolate without looking up. After Reese became Don, his underbosses seemed eager to please him by sending women his way. As a daughter of the Camorra family, groomed to become his wife, I could not accept his first betrayal. But I did not confront him. I coaxed what I could out of Charles and pieced together the rest from the estate staff's gossip. I learned that her name was Emily Caldwell and found the hotel where she was staying. I told her no one but me could stand beside Reese. I was a Camorra and his lawful wife. I never laid a finger on her. I only made sure she understood that no reputable social circle in the city would accept her. She received no dinner invitations, and no merchant would sell to her. Before long, she gave up her apartment and left Chicago. Reese stormed in soon afterward, fury lacing every word. "Rebecca, the Camorra family sent you here. They did not send you to police me! "I won't see another woman, as long as you learn how to be a proper wife." After that, no other women appeared at his side, and I believed he had changed. I never expected him to find someone else. I asked Mary, "They got together while I was miscarrying, didn't they?" Mary said nothing. She handed me a camera. I took it and began scrolling through the photographs. The first showed an estate. It was not the Moretti family's main estate, but a brand-new white villa on the coast. Juliet roses filled the garden, and a Roman-columned gazebo stood beside the pool. I recognized the plans. As a licensed architect, I had spent three sleepless months designing the master plan for the family's newly purchased seaside estate. The garden layout, the pool placement, every route through the interior. I had poured myself into every detail. Reese had said that once the family's finances stabilized, we would grow old there together. More photographs followed, documenting a year of travel across Europe. They skied in the Alps, watched the northern lights in Norway, and kissed beneath the Eiffel Tower. During those same months, I lay alone in a hospital, grieving the child I had lost. Reese claimed he was negotiating a shipment in the Mediterranean and would call whenever he had a moment to ask how I was. He even had a requiem Mass said at church for our baby. I once believed the man whose voice sounded so heavy with guilt was the angel pulling me from the abyss. Now I wondered whether every one of those calls had come from beside her in bed. I felt sick. In another photograph, they stood close together before an enormous wishing fountain. Emily had her arms around Reese's waist from behind and held up a card. "My good-luck charm." I stared at the picture. After my parents died in a firefight with a Mexican cartel, I had stood before a wishing fountain and wished for someone to take their place and stay with me. After I married Reese, I asked him to build a wishing fountain at our estate. He refused. He called it unnecessary. Now he had built one for her. Chapter 3 I left the coffee shop and had Charles drive me back to the main estate. When I opened the door, a bouquet of Juliet roses filled my vision. Reese stood behind the flowers with his arms spread and a smile on his lips. "Happy fifth anniversary, Rebecca. "I have a surprise for you, baby!" I did not take the flowers. "Thank you, but you know I've never liked roses." Uncertainty flickered across his face before his expression returned to normal. "You don't? I thought you liked flowers. I had these flown in from Holland." I had never liked roses, but Emily's garden overflowed with them. My gaze dropped to the ring finger on his left hand. It was bare except for a faint indentation. The pink diamond Emily had bought was probably one of a kind, and Reese had not found a matching ring yet. The heavy perfume clinging to him was not mine. My stomach turned, and I rushed to the bathroom to retch. Reese followed and set both hands on my shoulders, hands hardened by years of holding a gun. "You don't look well. I'll call the family doctor." I stepped away from him, turned on the faucet, and let the cold water wash the emotion from my face. "No need." Reese frowned. He seemed ready to say more when his phone rang. He looked at the screen and immediately walked onto the balcony. Through the glass door, I watched his entire posture soften the instant he answered. He was lying to me. About the shipment, the woman, and the ring. My sister, Jane Camorra, called, her voice as light as a lark. "Rebecca, Reese asked me to buy a new island for you. "A pink diamond ring is supposed to arrive with it!" Jane teased me from the other end of the line. "You have no idea how careless he was! He actually called it a first-anniversary gift!" "I didn't win the ring." Jane fell silent. The air between us seemed to freeze. I heard Reese shove open the door. "Rebecca, what did Jane tell you?" I lowered the phone and stood by the window, my voice as calm as if I were describing the weather. "I didn't win the ring. "Another woman did. Reese gave it to her for their first anniversary." Chapter 4 As soon as she heard that, Jane realized she had slipped and hung up. The ticking clock became the only sound in the bedroom. I leaned against the windowsill and spoke quietly. "Reese, I don't want to play hide-and-seek with your little girlfriend. "You've betrayed me again. The ring proves it." His fingers went instinctively to the mark on his ring finger. "Rebecca, I think you must have misunderstood..." I cut him off. "Reese, your voice always quickens when you lie to me. "You used to lie because you were planning a surprise. "Back then, I thought that meant you loved me." He frowned in confusion. "You're my wife. Of course I love you. What are you trying to say?" I waved him off and left the room. He had changed. Maybe he still loved me, but what remained had been diluted because he had given part of that love to another woman. My chest tightened as I walked down the corridor lined with photographs. At the far end hung our stiff wedding portrait. Even in the photograph, it was obvious I had not wanted to marry Reese. But he had promised to be a dependable husband, and for a time, he kept that promise. Farther down hung a photograph of me before a field of irises, Reese's arm around my waist and his expression tender. One of Reese's enemies had kidnapped me. Against his underbosses' objections, he came alone to rescue me. A rocket blast left a vicious scar across his waist. Later, he covered it with a tattoo of an iris. I fell hard for him. I believed I was the happiest woman in Chicago. I loved him. My phone pulled me out of the memory. Emily was calling. "I assume you know about me now. "Would you like to visit my estate tomorrow night?" The address followed. It was the white estate built from my plans. The next day, I stood before the estate that should have been mine. Emily waited in the garden in a vivid red dress, with the Juliet roses spreading behind her in a painful wash of pink. She opened the doors and led me through the hall. A party was underway, and everyone nodded to her in greeting. Emily was clearly the center of attention. Eager to flaunt it, she took me through the entire estate. Every detail matched my plans exactly. "Reese said he built it just for me," she said with an innocent smile. "When he showed me the plans, he told me to change anything I wanted. "I thought every detail was perfect, so I told him to build it exactly as drawn." I looked around at the estate I had spent three sleepless months designing. It was the finest project I had ever completed. I had once imagined making a life there. But Reese had said the family's money had to remain in the business and the plans would have to wait. He promised that after the crisis passed, he would make it up to me ten times over, a hundred times over, with estates and jewels. Then family business consumed more and more of his time. I stopped asking. The plans had never been shelved. Reese had used them to build the estate for someone else. He had turned my dream home into a cage for his canary. "The ring too." Emily raised her hand. The pink diamond flashed painfully in the sunlight. "He thought it suited me better." I stopped and slapped her hard across the face. "You wear being a mistress like a badge of honor, then dare flaunt it in my face?" Her eyes filled with tears. Almost immediately, another slap struck my face. The blow snapped my head aside. My ears rang, and I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth. Reese stood before me, his hand still raised and his eyes colder than I had ever seen them. "Rebecca, whatever issue you have, take it up with me. Don't touch her." Chapter 5 Emily huddled behind him, sobbing. "Reese, I thought we were in love! "She called me a mistress. I can't bear that humiliation! "Maybe I should walk away from you and all of this!" Reese pulled Emily into his arms. "Rebecca, you had no business meddling in this!" I pulled off my wedding ring, ready to ask him for a divorce. Emily pushed him away. "I'm sorry, but I can't accept being kept as your mistress." Reese looked at me. Every trace of warmth had vanished from his blue-green eyes. "Rebecca, you're not fit to be my wife. "The Camorra family failed to teach you manners. You've brought shame on yourself and them. "Apologize to her!" The room fell silent. The guests included prominent members of Emily's powerful financial family and several of Reese's most trusted men. Everyone stopped talking and turned to watch us. I looked at Emily's hand clasped in his, my eyes burning. "The Camorra family swore loyalty to you, not to her. I will not apologize!" A storm gathered in Reese's eyes. "Rebecca, you have no standing to say any of that to me!" He drew Emily against him. "Rebecca," he said, quietly enough to sound controlled but loudly enough for every guest to hear, "Emily is the lady of this estate." The hall went dead silent. Then whispers broke out. "Isn't that Rebecca Moretti?" "If even the Don won't stand by her, what kind of Donna is she?" "The Camorra family collapsed years ago. She'll be lucky to make it through tonight!" Their words drove into my ears like nails. My family had fought for Reese and died in a firefight for him. When a rocket was fired at him, I threw him to the ground and shielded him. The blast tore open my back, and I miscarried on the spot. Once, simply because I loved irises, he ordered every flower in the chapel replaced with them. He had irises embroidered across the skirt of my wedding dress. Five years ago, he had sworn before a priest that he would be faithful to me for life. Four years ago, he took a bullet in his left lung and refused to release my hand. Three years ago, when another woman appeared at his side, I became hysterical. At first, he only questioned me coldly. But he finally yielded to my tears and promised it would never happen again. One year ago, he built an estate for another woman. Now he was trampling our sacred marriage into the mud for her. To free her from the label of mistress, he had publicly denied that I was his wife. Reese's voice returned to its usual calm, cold enough to make me tremble. "Rebecca, I'm telling you one last time. "Apologize to Emily for every word you said today." I met his gaze as blood from my split lip slid down to my collarbone. I wiped it away and smiled bitterly. "I'm sorry." That apology was for the woman I had once been, the one who still expected something from marriage. Emily sniffled and said she forgave me. Satisfied that the spectacle had ended, the onlookers made no effort to hide their ridicule. "Look at her. She looks like a prizefighter who just got knocked out!" "She's a disgrace to the Camorra family!" Reese released my wrist. The finger marks on my arm darkened from red to purple. I pushed through the crowd and left the estate. He hurried after me. "Consider this a lesson, Rebecca. As my wife, you never should have attacked a defenseless young woman! "Go home and think about what you did. As a reward, I'll end things with her." His apology was just another accusation delivered from on high, as if I were a subordinate who had failed him. Not his wife. I stopped listening and climbed into the car without looking back. I ordered Charles, "Carlo Moretti's law firm. Now." Chicago's finest firm drafted a divorce settlement that satisfied me within hours. The words "husband unfaithful during wife's pregnancy" still jolted me. That night, I sat awake until dawn and wondered whether the angel who had never been born had come only to reveal God's will, to tell me this love was a mistake. At dawn, I had Charles drive me to the airport under the pretense of a family business trip. Once I boarded, Reese called. "Emily was terrified. No one has ever treated her so brutally! "Her face is badly swollen. I'm taking her to a doctor." After saying that, he seemed to realize how cold he sounded and softened his tone. "Be a good girl, Rebecca. Charles says you're away on business. When you come home, I'll buy you a bigger diamond." I studied the handprint swelling on my face in the mirror and fell silent for a moment. "Buy it for your new wife, Reese. "I'll have Carlo Moretti's lawyers formally serve you with the divorce papers. Be sure to sign them."