I'd made inquiries in private. Three days after our wedding, Ermanno had been dispatched south to manage hurricane relief operations, the Family running aid contracts through the devastated parishes, half legitimate, half laundering front. That was where his entanglement with Katarina began.
He'd been caught in the floodwaters pulling survivors from a collapsed building. Delirious with fever, he mistook her for me. One reckless night, and he took her innocence.
Afterward, pitying her as an orphan with no one in the world, he brought her back to the city. Installed her in the safehouse. Spent every day at her side.
When I followed him there that day, I saw how exquisitely the place had been furnished. Every detail chosen with care. Ermanno must have loved her deeply.
A bitter ache spread through my chest.
Katarina noticed the look on my face. Satisfaction crept across hers.
"Gioia Galante. Everyone says Ermanno adores you. But the way I see it, you're the most pitiful woman alive."
"Your own husband slips poison into your medicine every single day, yet he and I are the ones expecting a child. Tell me, how does that make any sense?"