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“Stop,” I cut her off, stepping back. “Enough with the feelings. Just get me out of here.”

Chiara’s eyes widen at my tone, but she nods, guiding me to the passenger side of the SUV. “Let’s head back to the mansion. We’ll be protected there. Marco said?—”

“I’m not going back to Marco’s house,” I say, my voice turning to steel. “Ever.”

Chiara freezes, hand on the car door. “What? But Aria, we have to. Fabrizio found out who we are, and it’s only a matter of time before others find out. Marco can protect us?—”

“Marco knew, Chi,” I say, each word like glass shredding my throat. “He knew it was his father. He knew Salvatore Bianchi murdered our parents, and he never told me. Not once. He looked me in the eye every day, kissed me, held me, and still kept it buried like it was nothing. He let me fall in love with him.”

My voice breaks. “He let me give myself to him—body, heart, all of it—while knowing the blood on his hands was mine to grieve. He laid me in his bed with that truth rotting between us.How do I come back from that, Chi? How do I forgive something so unforgivable?”

“I’m not excusing him,” Chiara says quietly as she slides into the driver’s seat, gripping the wheel. “But I saw him, Aria. After you were taken. He looked like a man who’d already died. Whatever else he’s guilty of—and God knows it’s a lot—he isn’t faking what he feels for you. That isn’t a lie.”

“Don’t defend him,” I snap, slamming my door shut. “Just drive. Anywhere but there.”

Chiara starts the car and begins to drive slowly. “Aria, listen to me. I saw him when you were missing. He was like a man possessed. He didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. He tore this city apart looking for you. Whatever else he’s done, he loves you.”

A treacherous pain twists in my chest at her words. I shove it down, refusing to acknowledge it. “Love doesn’t change who he is.”

“Then what’s your plan?” she asks, finally pulling away from the gate. “Where do we go?”

I stare straight ahead, watching the road unfurl before us. “You said there are families still loyal to the DeLucas.”

Chiara nods slowly. “Yes. And they’ve only grown more powerful. They’ve been waiting—quietly, patiently—for years to finish what was started. Waiting for someone with the name, the will, and the fury to take the lead.”

“Then they won’t have to wait any longer,” I say, my voice like steel. “Their time has come. An heir doesn’t run. Not when the ghosts are speaking and the truth can finally burn.”

“Do you still have the money?” I ask. “From the marriage contract?”

“A large chunk of it. Why?”

A cold smile spreads across my face. “Because we’re going to need it. We need to find a safe house first, somewhere no one would look for us. Then we’re going to contact those loyalfamilies. And then?” I turn to look at her. “We rebuild what the Bianchis destroyed.”

Chiara’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Aria, this is dangerous. More dangerous than anything we’ve ever done.”

“I don’t care,” I say, the grief and rage I’ve kept tamped down now burning freely.

The road blurs before me, and I realize I’m crying. Angry tears that I swipe away with the back of my hand.

“He broke my trust,” I continue, my voice cracking. “And I will make his entire family pay for what they did to ours.”

Chiara reaches over, taking my hand in hers. “Are you sure about this? There’s no going back. Marco will come looking for you.”

“Let him,” I say fiercely. “I’m done being a Bianchi. I’m a DeLuca. It’s time I started acting like one.”

As we speed away from the estate, from Marco, from the life I briefly allowed myself to imagine, I feel something hardening inside me. The tender parts that began to open for Marco now seal themselves off, protected by a shell of determination and rage.

Behind us, the last echoes of gunfire die in the distance, swallowed by the night. For a split second, my mind betrays me—I wonder if Marco’s still standing, if he’s bleeding, if he’s alive. But I crush the impulse like a dying ember. Whatever happens to him now is no longer my concern. I made my choice—and I chose war.

“The first thing we need is a place to hide,” I say, focusing on the plan forming in my mind. “Somewhere Marco wouldn’t think to look.”

“I might know a place,” Chiara says carefully. “A small apartment one of my friends owns. It’s in her grandmother’s name. No paper trail that could lead back to us.”

I nod, satisfied. “Good. From there, we contact the families. We need to move fast, before word spreads that we’re alive.”

“If we cross this line, we don’t get to come back from it. You know that,”Chiara says, her worried eyes locked on mine. “Marco said Salvatore is actively hunting for us. We’re putting targets on our backs.”

“Good,” I say coldly. “Let them come. I’m not Marco’s wife anymore. I’m my father’s daughter. We’ve had targets on our backs our entire lives,” I say grimly. “We just didn’t know it. At least now we can see the enemy clearly.”