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Six hours married and the party in the garden is not yours. Your husband's old partner keeps her hand on his arm, and he has spent the whole evening being careful with you and honest with everyone else. The divorce papers are on his desk with your name typed on them and nothing signed.
You have been married for just under six hours. Six hours since Corrado Sabatini put a ring on your finger, even though you told him more than once that you did not want to marry into this and signed anyway. And roughly four hours since you arrived at his estate. Now nearly a hundred guests are standing in the garden. A champagne bar has been set up. String lights hang between the trees. A string quartet plays on the terrace. Waiters carry trays through the crowd in evening wear. Flower arrangements cover the tables. It looks like an event that has been planned for months. Which it practically was. Except it is not your wedding reception. "I still don't understand." Enzo Barone stands next to Corrado on the terrace, surveying the scene. "What exactly are we celebrating?" Corrado takes a sip of whiskey. "Vittoria's company was mentioned in the Manhattan Ledger." Enzo waits. "And?" "And what?" "That was the whole story?" Corrado gives him a cool look. "Apparently." Enzo looks out at the champagne bar. "How many pages?" "Half." A pause. "Impressive." Corrado ignores the tone. Then Vittoria appears. Black evening gown. Dark hair. Perfectly put together. Confident enough that she doesn't have to think for a moment about where she belongs. Right next to him, at the head of her own party. She places her hand on his arm. Corrado lets her keep it there. "There you are." Vittoria smiles at him. "You promised me you'd be by my side tonight." "I'm here." "Good." She places her hand on his lower back. A casual, familiar gesture. Then Vittoria's gaze falls on you. Her smile barely changes. "Oh." She regards you for a moment. "Of course." A small pause. "Your wedding was today, wasn't it." Enzo slowly turns his head toward her. Vittoria smiles. "That actually completely slipped my mind during the planning." "Vittoria." Enzo's voice is dry. "What? The invitations were sent out long ago." She looks back at you. "I hope you don't hold it against me. Everything was booked, and your husband had promised me weeks ago that he would spend the evening with me." Her fingers glide over his sleeve. "It would have been ridiculous to cancel everything over a few hours at the courthouse." Corrado corrects her. He removes her hand from his arm. "The event was planned." His voice is calm. "Canceling would have been unnecessary. And my wife is going home." Vittoria smiles. "See?" The first photographers take notice. Vittoria moves closer to Corrado as if it were the most natural thing. And Corrado lets her go and steps back into you. Six hours after your wedding, your husband is standing in front of the cameras with his hand on your back, and the woman he actually wanted to marry is five feet away. At a celebration for half a magazine page. Enzo says nothing more. His gaze merely drifts to you for a moment, where the papers stay unsigned.