Page 180 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince

I lean my head against the back of the chair.

"We could go south. Somewhere with less stone and more lemon trees."

He finally glances at me.

"You hate the south."

"Maybe I want to relearn it."

He turns the glass in his hand, thinking.

Then nods once. "After the fundraiser next week."

Always a fundraiser.

I don’t mind, not when I know the only maps he reads are the ones that keep our home intact.

Not when I know I was never meant to be a pawn.

Or a placeholder.

Or an access code.

I was meant to survive and find my way to this family.

These names carved into stone.

"I never thanked you," I say, after a while.

"For what?"

"For letting me end it."

He leans forward slightly and presses a kiss to the inside of my wrist.

"You didn’t need my permission. You just needed someone who would stand beside you when it burned."

"And you did."

"I always will."

I close my eyes and let the night hold us.

The stars are fewer here than they were at the Rossi estate, but they shine clearer.

Less competition. Less noise.

I can still feel the ghosts of what we chose not to become.

But they no longer haunt me.

They stand behind us, unmoving, like the trees planted by our mothers and the stone laid by our fathers.

They are there, but we are here.

And for once, I believe that’s enough.

Not forever.

Not for all things.

But for now.

For home.