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And I mean it. This life—the one I spent years running from—is mine now. Not because I’m trapped, but because I chose it. The Commission, the violence, the constant threat—I walk into it with my eyes wide open.
“Alessandra, Everyone in my life wanted something from me—my loyalty, my muscle, my protection. You’re the first person who just wanted me. The good, the bad, all of it. And I’ll spend my life making sure you never regret that choice.”
Maybe this is what my mother tried to shield me from. But the bitter truth? I inherited more than just her green eyes and red hair. I inherited the steel in her spine, the fire in her blood. I am her daughter in every way that matters.
“Are you sure? Won’t you miss your old life? The one where you didn’t have to look over your shoulder? Where carrying a gun wasn’t second nature?”
“Let’s be real, Dom. If you got into my penthouse that easily, was it ever safe?”
“Too fucking easy.”
“Exactly,” I say wincing in pain. “And who’s to say I wasn’t carrying a gun anyway? There are at least five in that penthouse. The only difference now is I’m done pretending I can outrun this.”
“But you spent your whole life running from it.”
I grin, bringing the back of his hand to my lips. “And I’ll spend whatever is left with you.”
He exhales sharply, something shifting in his expression. Like he’s coming to terms with the inevitable.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. So can you stop with the bullshit? I’m part of this now.”
His eyes hold mine, searching. “Okay. But when this RICO case is handled—”
“You mean when you officially become part of the Commission.”
“Exactly. I want you training. Hard. No more slacking.”
I arch a brow. “And if I refuse?”
“Not an option. I need you safe. No more hospitals.”
“I won’t have to kill… will I?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Not unless you have to. But you need to be ready. Because if it’s your life or theirs…”
I nod slowly, already knowing where this road leads. “I get it.”
“Promise me, Alessa.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument. “If it’s your life on the line, you’ll pull the trigger.”
The Cosa Nostra is kill or be killed. I’ve always known that.
“I promise.” The words burn. A vow sealed in blood—my own. A line I never thought I’d cross. I spent years exposing monsters. Now I just promise to become one. My mother would be spinning in her grave… or maybe she’d nod in grim understanding. That thought haunts me.
The door opens, breaking the tension. A doctor steps in—male, tall, with copper-brown hair and hazel eyes peering through thick rimmed glasses. A binder in one hand, a stethoscope draped around his neck.
“Good evening, Mr. Gianelli, Ms. Russo.” He checks my IV. “I’m Doctor Whitmore. How are you feeling?”
“Like I fell off a thirty-story building.”
“That’s an understatement. Did Mr. Gianelli tell you that you flatlined on my table?”
“He did.”
Dominic doesn’t move from my side, his grip unwavering, his scent intoxicating as I focus on his presence.
“You’re lucky, Ms. Russo.”
Dominic leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “Damn right she is.” His voice is low, meant only for me. His gaze locks onto mine, steady and sure, and when the corner of his mouth quirks up in that signature smirk, a quiet certainty settles over me—like no matter what happens, he’s got me.