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Until the day we meet again?—

Wherever that may be.

A week later…

The rain pelts down as I stand at the gravesite, the umbrella above me doing little to shield me from the weight of it all. I watch as my son’s coffin is lowered into the earth, the finality of it hitting me harder than I ever could’ve imagined. My chestaches—a raw, bleeding wound that won’t heal. I thought I could bear this. I thought I was prepared. But I wasn’t. No one ever is.

Maria stands beside me, her presence the only thing keeping me anchored. Her hand rests in mine, and she hasn’t let it go since we left the church service. True to her word, she has stayed by my side while I face the worst pain of my life. I’ve never needed to lean on a woman before her. But now, for the first time in my life, I allow myself to break. I allow myself to be weak—if only for a moment.

I glance to the side, my gaze landing on Beatrice’s tombstone—the grave next to Daniele’s. The two of them are together now, buried side by side. It seems fitting, in a way. They were always so intertwined in life, even if we never really acknowledged it.

“As his soul has left this earth, we lower his body to the ground, and I ask that…” The reverend begins his speech, but I’m too far gone to process his words.

The ceremony passes in a blur—the somber rituals, the weight in the air. I can hardly feel anything except the cold numbness creeping into my bones.

And then, when it’s finally over, we return to the manor for the wake. A place I haven’t set foot in since Beatrice’s passing.

It took Beatrice dying for me to leave this estate I had built for our family. And now, it’s taken my son’s death to bring me back.

The family home he grew up in and loved so dearly.

The house feels just as hollow as I do. Filled with mourners, yes—but also filled with ghosts. Still, there’s a strange comfort in being surrounded by these familiar walls.

43

MARIA

Ithought the halls would feel haunted.

I thought they would scream at me, curse me—because these were the walls she walked.

These were the walls where she created a family with him.

But there’s a strange comfort that comes with being here. It feels… like a home. Not like the penthouse we’ve been living in these past few months. There’s a warmth that carries across the marble floors.

A life that once was still lingers in this palace of a house.

I press my hand over my belly and watch the garden outside the large floor-to-ceiling window. I needed some time for myself. The funeral was suffocating, and watching Matteo in so much pain tore at the deepest parts of my heart.

I said I’d be there for him, but this weight… if it feels this heavy on me, I can only imagine how much heavier it must be for him.

I hate seeing him like this. But he needs to grieve. He needs to mourn his son fully, and then—maybe—make space to heal.

I don’t know if I’ll still be there when that time comes. I made a promise, but being this close to him after everything that’s happened… It’s hard.

“Amore.”

My father comes to stand beside me. His familiar scent brings a flicker of comfort to my chest. “I was looking for you.”

I turn my head to the side. “Papá, I just needed some time away from everything.”

His lips tilt upward in a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “How are you, cara?”

I sigh, the weight of the past few days pressing down on my chest. “As well as I can be. We eradicated the man responsible for all this strife. But in the process, we lost Daniele. And it feels… bittersweet. Like we won—but we also lost.”

“Come, cara.”

My father pulls me into his arms and holds me.