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OMG, the men were there last night.

What do you mean? BTW, Sandro witnessed the whole thing from the bar on the third floor.

Sera

Matteo and Nico arrived late, but just in time to help Dom calm Sandro down.

Ivy

Calm? Try egg Sandro on.

Ugh, my brothers.

Ivy

So…Nico is tight-lipped about what happened to the guy.

Sera

Matteo is too.

The man is fine. It could have been worse.

Ivy

Meet for breakfast?

Nope. I have my husband for the entire weekend and we’re about to head out for brunch.

Sera

Aw, I’m happy for you, but you’re a tease.

Justice has been served. I do like feral Sandro afterwards. Later

Sera

You can’t leave us hanging!

Ivy

Now who’s the tease? But yay for Sandro joining the Obsessed Husbands Club.

I dressed in a dusky-rose hoodie and matching sweatpants, pairing it with platform slip-ons. My hair wasn’t totally dry, but I had no patience wrangling it this morning, so I held it up with a claw clip. I didn’t feel like slapping on concealer either, and used wide-frame sunglasses to disguise yesterday’s excesses of alcohol, sweets, sex, plus a late night. Sans the incident onthe dance floor, it was a perfect evening. An evening spent with family, friends, and ending with sizzling sex with Sandro and a few epiphanies.

A smile touched the corners of my mouth. It seemed I was counting my blessings this morning. Was it only last night when I was wondering why I wasn’t deliriously happy?

I was only twenty-three, a mafia wife, but in the De Lucci world I grew up in, women weren’t second-class citizens. From the start, we were empowered, cherished, protected, and loved. Falling into Sandro’s world and its misogynistic culture, I despaired at the challenges that faced me, and fear of failure was making me despondent.

But being around Sera and Ivy re-energized my resolve, and seeing how I was still the center of Sandro’s universe was the refueling I needed.

Would I fall into that dark hole again? Most likely. I was thrown into a marriage before I was ready. I would not beat myself up if I was having doubts, and I would remember to reach out to the fierce women in my family. Why didn’t I think to open up to Mom about my fears? After my captivity, we talked almost every day, but I maintained a façade, not wanting her to worry.

I still wanted to do this on my own. I wasn’t going to run back to my parents at the first sign of trouble. I was a De Lucci and a McGrath. I needed to act like it.

I left the bedroom to find Sandro already waiting by the French doors, texting someone. His hair was still wet from the shower. He was in a gray T-shirt and black track pants.

“I’m not used to seeing you like this,” I told him.