“Sì, certo. It’s safe, Sal.” Then he dipped his chin and hurried away, boots crunching on gravel as he disappeared into the night.

Sal shut the door as I lifted the lid off the box. Scraps of delicate silk and lace met my eyes. Garters, a thong, a bustier . . . Oh, my god.

I slammed the lid shut.

Sal looked as horrified as I felt. His skin turned red and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “I suppose that makes sense. It is your wedding night.”

“Well, I won’t be needing this.” I tried to give him the box, but he wouldn’t take it.

“No, signora.” He backed away quicker than should’ve been possible, considering his leg. “You take that upstairs with you. I need to finish up in the kitchen. Buona notte.”

He left, so I had no choice but to take the box upstairs. Who were they from? Certainly not Buscetta. Zani? But when would he have had time to shop for these?

It made no sense.

Once I was back in Versailles, I sat on the bed and placed the box next to me. I stared at it, hesitating. Then I chastised myself at how ridiculous I was being. This was lingerie, not a snake. Actually, I didn’t find snakes all that scary. Spiders, yes, but not snakes.

You’re rambling, Emma.

Okay, I was braver than this. Last summer I attended a camp at a body farm studying decomposing human and animal bodies. All the other campers puked at least once, but I never did.

Inhaling a deep lungful of air, I flipped the lid off the box. The garments were arranged carefully, with lots of ribbons and bows on display. Everything was white, naturally. Had to keep that virgin vibe going, I guess.

A note was on the inside of the lid.

Signora Buscetta—

Youwillbe pregnant with Giacomo’s child within six months’ time.

If you are not, then you know what happens in Toronto.

Your phone is enclosed. Notice the security application installed. It is connected to a camera in your father’s bedroom.

Just remember, you are not the only one watching.

It was signed with a large “V.”

My stomach clenched, the eggplant pasta threatening to reemerge. Virga had sent this to me. Why was this happening? I hadn’t hurt anyone. My whole life I’d followed the rules and never stepped out of line. My two older sisters had been wild enough for all of us, always causing trouble and aggravating our poor father.

And what was my reward for doing the right thing? A marriage I didn’t want to a man who couldn’t be more wrong for me. Stuck in a place where I knew no one.

Ugh. I had to find a way out of this.

Digging through the box, I found my phone and pulled up the new security app. My father’s bedroom appeared on the screen. Gloria and my father were there, watching television together. I touched the screen, wishing I could be with him. A lump rose in my throat, but I swallowed it. There was no time for pity or regrets now.

Clicking on my contacts, I pressed the button to call.

Gloria answered for him on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Hi,” I forced out, trying to sound as natural as possible. “It’s me.”

“Oh, Emma.” Worry coated her voice. “Is everything okay?”

I hadn’t told her much about my leaving, only that I’d be away for a few days and not to mention anything to my father. “I’m fine, I swear. Can I talk to him?”

“Sure, hold on.”

Some scuffling, then my father came on the line. “Hello, baby girl. Where are you? At school?”