Page 96 of Cara

His chin tucks into my hair. “What are you thinking?”

I could unload on him, voice all my concerns, absolutely terrify him. Icoulddo that.

Instead, a hesitant smile spreads across my face, my eyes squeezing out the last of my tears as I embrace him tighter, leaving not an inch of space between us. “Honestly… you had me at winning every argument.”

His grateful laugh is the most breathtaking sound I’ve ever heard.

Sophie

As Long Island and that secluded piece of heaven fades into the background, the car hurdling over the bridge connecting us back to the mainland—to the Bronx—Xavier’s hand falls into my lap, free for the taking.

A slight smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when I waste no time clinging to him, massaging his nimble fingers to distract myself from where we’re headed. After we veiled the furniture in the cottage and gathered what little we had with us, I expected we’d be on our way upstate, but we’re entering city limits.

It’s so different from Reykjavík or even Madrid.

There’snothinglike New York City.

Only here does steam vapor rise from every grate, seeping from tunnels hidden beneath the concrete. Graffiti? It’s everywhere. On sidewalks, metal scaffolding, even on billboards suspended high above skyscrapers. In the city, construction is constant, and people move in droves, crossing the frenzied streets as if they own them.

Man, I’vemissedthis.

To think I lived here, even if just for a few months… So many memories come flooding back.

Xavier navigates the boroughs easily, just as skilled in avoiding traffic as his driver, Michael.

Curious, I ask, “Do you still have a driver?”

“Most days.”

“Michael?”

The man never cared much for me, but when Xavier nods, I smile at the familiarity. After years of nothing but displacement, I want to hold onto every single thing I know. Above all, the crime lord beside me. He’s done more to ease my burdens in just a few days than an entire year with Isaac or Victoria tucked away in that compound.

The bruises Isaac inflicted during our last skirmish have faded to a dull yellow, less prominent than when I first arrived. My body desperately needed the downtime, but now, with the dangers of the city lurking all around us, I’m craving a session with a punching bag.

The sight of Xavier’s wedding ring on his mangled finger is still something I can’t quite get used to. Unable to tear my eyes away from him, I idly trace the glossy, round peaks of scarred tissue mapping the surface of his hand.

I don’t want to think about how those blemishes resemble branding, that the faded markings have the likeness of the Marcello signet ring that’s no longer adorning his smallest finger, or that they are so profoundly burned into his flesh that there’s no way they’ll never not be there.

How he manages to smile at all, I’ll never know.

Xavier’s voice breaks apart the hatred rapidly forming in my chest, a feeling I have become way too reliant upon.

“We’re here.”

He’s parked us beside the curb of custom-designed brickwork, a building made of rusty cinder block—somewhere I'm certain I’ve never been before. “Where?”

His eyes gleam with mischief as he reaches past me to open the passenger door, dark hair veiling his cheekbone.

“There are two particularly desperate twins waiting for you upstairs.”

At that moment, a swish of glass lodges into the wood, voices calling from above.

Squinting at the clear sky, the rays of sun fade as I shift into the shadow of the structure, catching sight of deep, dark skin, smiles that stretch for days. Before I know it, my legs are dashing through the front entrance, charging up three flights of stairs until I'm swept off my feet, hearing Dante’s signature laugh echo across multiple floors.

“Woman! You are a fuckin’sightfor sore eyes!”

After being numb for so long, to feel at all is a gift… a gift that unravels me swiftly. Because in many ways, Dante was the first person I truly trusted in my new life, even before Xavier managed to break through my defenses.