Page 9 of Blood Debt

His hand drifts toward mine on the armrest. He doesn’t touch it—he never does—but it hovers close enough that I can feel the warmth of it.

“The Blue Moon is coming,” he says.

I stiffen.

He watches me. The humor has gone from his face now, replaced with quiet intensity. The air feels heavier, like it’s folded itself around us.

“I want to see you sealed before I go,” he says. “Bound in the rite. You know what it means.”

I nod once, slowly.

Of course I do.

It’s more than ceremony. It’s legacy. Ancestral magic. Old Sicilian bloodlines. The Blue Moon only comes once every ten years, and when it does, the Rite of Binding can be performed. Two people. One pact. A blood-seal. No betrayal, no broken vows. Your fate is tied to theirs—permanently.

“You ask a lot,” I say quietly.

He smiles, softer this time. “I gave you everything. Now I ask for one thing.”

I don’t answer.

He’s already drifting off, eyes heavy-lidded. I rise and tuck the blanket higher over his shoulders, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. His breathing evens out.

“Fine, fine,” I murmur. “You old man. I’ll go on the damn date.”

His lips twitch as he slips into sleep.

Outside the room, Matteo is waiting in the hallway—my second-in-command, sharp-eyed, leaning casually against the wall with a tablet under one arm.

“How the hell did he arrange a date?” I ask.

Matteo smirks. “He insisted on keeping a private phone. I told him not to.”

“And?”

“And he’s been on dating apps.”

I stare at him. “You let him?”

Matteo shrugs.

I drag a hand over my jaw. “Unbelievable.”

He glances sideways at me. “So. Are you going?”

I open my mouth to answer—but my father’s voice, muffled but distinct, calls from inside the room.

“Cristofano Vittorio Bellarosa!”

I flinch.

Matteo grins.

“You will go on the date!” my father growls. “And you will enjoy it!”

I stare at the door. Then glance at Matteo.

He’s barely holding back a laugh.