Marked Out

Emma had Luca’s elbow in one hand and a champagne flute in the other when she saw the card.

It had been tucked under the edge of the black place setting, half-hidden by the gold charger. She set the glass down and slid two fingers under the card, ready to laugh at some dumb seating mix-up.

The front had her name in neat script.

The back had two words in block letters:

NOT FAMILY

Her thumb stopped moving.

The ballroom kept going for one more second. A waiter passed with a tray. Somewhere near the bandstand, a violin note hung and died. Then the room went flat.

Emma lifted her eyes.

At the long head table, the Moretti crest gleamed on the linen. Across the room, people who had been talking too loud all turned their heads at once, like somebody had snapped a leash. A woman by the candelabra pressed a hand to her throat. A man near the doors shifted his weight and looked down.

Luca’s jaw tightened. She felt it before she looked at him.

“Emma,” he said, low.

She turned the card over again, like the words might change if she stared hard enough.

NOT FAMILY.

It was not a joke. Not a mistake. Not something a drunk cousin had thought was funny.

This was printed. Planned. Put under her plate while she was standing right there, smiling beside Luca like she belonged.

She heard a breath from the nearest table. Then another. No one said a word.

Luca reached for the card.

Emma pulled it back before his fingers touched hers. Her hand closed around the paper so hard the edge cut her skin.

“Don’t,” she said.

His eyes flicked to her palm.

“Who put this here?” he asked.

Nobody answered.

At the head table, Isabella Moretti sat straight-backed in a silver dress, one hand wrapped around her water glass. She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. The family crest behind her looked like it was carved into the wall.

Emma looked from Isabella to Luca, then back to the room. Every face had gone careful. Watching. Waiting to see if she would make this easy.

Her throat tightened. She kept her voice even anyway.

“I should leave,” she said.

Luca’s hand came up, then stopped in the air between them. Not touching. Not yet.

And that was when she knew this had not been a welcome at all. It had been a test.