A week later, Sophia insisted on taking me to the Velvet Club, the Bellandis' private place on the north side, where families traded favors and insults without raising their voices.

"You need air," she said while fixing my hair in the mirror. "And you need to meet someone who isn't a ghost."

She meant well. That was the problem. Every kind thing she did made it harder to hate her.

I wore a black velvet dress, light makeup, and Luca's ring on my finger. I didn't wear it to fight for him. I wore it because I was too weak to take it off before I had to.

When we arrived, Luca was already at the main table. Sophia went straight to him. He stood at once, pulled out her chair, and asked whether the music was too loud. She smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his jaw.

"Elena," Sophia said, pulling me down beside her, "this is Dante Valenti. He's an old friend of Luca's, apparently dangerous, and very single."

Dante Valenti sat across from me in a navy suit without a tie, his lazy smile barely hiding sharp eyes. Three years ago, when my search nearly got me killed, Dante had gotten me out and kept unwanted visitors from my hospital room.

He looked at me for a long moment. "Ms. Vane. Long time."

"Dante," I said softly.

Sophia missed the history in that silence. Luca didn't. His gaze settled between us, dark and still, and for the first time all night, he looked less like a husband and more like the man who once hated anyone who stood too close to me.

Halfway through dinner, Sophia went to fix her makeup. Luca waited until the conversation moved away from us, then took a black hotel key card from his jacket and slid it toward me.

"Suite upstairs," he said. "Dante is staying there tonight."

I stared at the card. "Why are you giving this to me?"

His mouth curved, but there was no humor in it. "Isn't this what you want? You and Dante already know each other well enough."

My face went cold. "Luca."

"Don't look at me like that. You found comfort once. Why pretend you're too pure to do it again?"

Dante's glass stopped halfway to his mouth. He said nothing, but his eyes sharpened.

I should have thrown the card back at him. Instead, I sat there with my hands in my lap and felt something inside me fold in on itself, small and tired.

For five years, I had believed love meant endurance. Now he was alive, sitting in front of me, using the only man who had helped me survive as a knife.

Slowly, I pulled the engagement ring from my finger.

It had followed me through five years of searching. Once it had been a promise. Then it became a grave marker. Now it was only cold metal.

I placed it beside the key card.

The ring tapped against the black marble. Luca's eyes changed at once.

"Elena," he said, and for the first time his voice sounded almost afraid.

I couldn't look at him for long. If I did, I might break. "I can't do this anymore. I can't wait for you, hate you, love you, and be punished by you at the same time."

Sophia came back then, smiling until she saw our faces. "What happened?"

I stood before I could lose my nerve. My legs felt weak. My whole body felt weak.

But I still picked up the key card, not because Luca had sent me anywhere, but because I needed one door in that room that did not belong to him.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm tired."

Behind me, Luca called my name once.

I stopped, but I didn’t turn around.

“You don’t get to throw me at another man and still look hurt when I walk away.”

Then I left.