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Chapter Twenty-Six

Romeo

The doctor steps out of Viviana’s room adjusting his glasses. I’m leaning against the wall, arms crossed, my patience already worn thin from waiting.

His silence stretches a moment too long, and I straighten, fixing him with a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

“Well,” I demand, my voice low but dangerous. “What’s wrong with her?”

“She’s physically fine,” he says carefully, his tone too measured for my liking. “She’s under considerable stress. That can manifest in fainting spells, fatigue, or other symptoms if not addressed.”

My jaw tightens, but I don’t respond immediately. I glance past him toward the closed door of her room, where I know Viviana is waiting. The thought of her fainting again, of something happening to her while I wasn’t there to stop it, sends a sharp pang of frustration through me.

“There’s nothing else?” I press, narrowing my eyes at him.

He hesitates, his gaze flickering briefly back to the door before meeting mine again. “Nothing definitive,” he says slowly. “If she continues to show signs of stress, it may be worth investigating further.”

The way his eyes linger on the door sets my teeth on edge, but I don’t let it show. “She’ll be fine,” I say firmly, more to myself than to him. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The doctor nods and gathers his things, casting one last glance toward Viviana’s room before leaving. As the door closes behind him, I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair.

The weight of his unspoken concerns lingers in the air, but I shove it aside. I have more immediate problems to deal with.

In the study, Matteo lays out a map of Salvatore’s territories, marking key locations with precision. “If we hit this shipment,” he says, tapping a spot near the docks, “it’ll cripple his supply chain. He’ll lose credibility with his allies.”

“And his allies?” I ask, my tone sharp. “Who’s protecting the shipment?”

“Antonio, of course,” Matteo replies, his gaze steady. “Salvatore’s most trusted man.” He says this last sentence with sarcasm.

The name sends a jolt through me. Antonio is back in Salvatore’s fold again. I should have taken him out when I had the chance.

“We’ll hit the docks tonight,” I say, my voice cold and decisive. “No one leaves alive.”

Matteo hesitates, his lips pressing into a thin line. “It’s a bold move, Romeo. Salvatore will retaliate.”

“Let him,” I growl, my fists clenching. “I’m done waiting for him to make the first move. We take the fight to him now.”

Matteo nods reluctantly, his expression grim as he begins organizing the operation. My mind races with plans and contingencies, but a flicker of doubt creeps in unbidden. I glance toward the hallway, where Viviana remains in her room, oblivious to what’s unfolding.

Can I keep her safe? Will I be able to honor the promise that I made her? Or will she just fight me at every turn, exposing herself to danger?

I sigh and go back to working out the details of my plan with Matteo. By the time we are done, the evening is long gone and it is dark out. I look for Vivianna in her bedroom, but she isn’t there.

I find her in the library again, curled up on the same chair as before. The firelight dances across her features, softening the tension that seems to follow her everywhere. When she looks up and sees me, the warmth in her expression vanishes, replaced by something harder.

“When do we leave?” she asks, her voice clipped.

“I want to talk,” I say simply, stepping into the room. “About what’s coming.”

Her brow furrows, and she sets the book aside, sitting up straighter. “What’s coming?”

“A confrontation with Salvatore,” I say, my voice calm but firm. “It’s time to end this.”

Her eyes narrow, and she shakes her head. “By killing more people?”

“It’s the only way,” I reply, my tone leaving no room for argument.

She stands abruptly, her fists clenched at her sides. “You don’t have to do this, Romeo. You’re just proving that you’re no different from him.”

The accusation stings, but I keep my expression neutral. “You think I can sit back and let him continue to come after us? After you?”

“You have a choice,” she insists, her voice rising. “You don’t have to keep feeding this cycle of violence.”

I step closer, my gaze locking onto hers. “What would you have me do, Viviana? Let him walk away?”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t back down. “You could be better,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to keep proving him right.”

My jaw tightens, and I lean in slightly, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Why are you so determined to see the good in me?”

Her lips part, but no words come out. For a moment, the air between us is silent, charged, neither of us willing to break first. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her anger and something deeper.

“I want to believe it’s there,” she says finally, her voice trembling. “I want to believe you’re more than this.”

The words are like a slap, and for a moment, I falter. Her belief in me, fragile and tentative as it is, feels like both a gift and a curse. I take a step back, my hands clenching at my sides as I try to rein in the storm of emotions threatening to consume me.

“You don’t understand the world you’re in,” I say quietly, my voice rough. “This is how it works, Viviana. This is how I keep you safe.”

Her shoulders slump slightly, the fire in her eyes dimming. “What happens when there’s no one left to fight? What happens when you have nothing left to destroy?”

I don’t leave. Her words—sharp and cutting—lash at me, but something in the way she looks at me keeps me rooted to the spot. She’s angry, defiant, but there’s something else flickering in her eyes. Something that makes my chest tighten, even as my frustration threatens to boil over.

“Do you think I enjoy this?” I say, my voice low but charged. “Do you think I wake up every morning wanting to spill more blood, wanting to destroy more lives?”

“You act like it’s all you know,” she fires back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Like violence is the only answer. It’s not, Romeo. It doesn’t have to be.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I snap, stepping closer. “It will always end one of two ways. Either Salvatore dies, or I do.”

“I’m saying you can break the cycle,” she says, her voice rising. “You can be better than this.”

“Better,” I repeat bitterly, running a hand through my hair. “Better doesn’t keep you alive in my world, Viviana. Better gets you killed.”

Her jaw tightens, and she takes a step closer, her anger matching mine. “You’re so convinced that this is the only way, but it’s not, Romeo. You have a choice.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “A choice? You don’t understand the first thing about what it takes to survive. Every choice I’ve made has been to protect what’s mine.”

“And what am I, to be to you?” she demands, her voice trembling now. “Your property? Your wife? A liability?”

Her words are filled with bitterness, and I take a step back, my jaw clenching. “You’re not property,” I say quietly, the anger in my voice replaced by something rawer, something I can’t name.

“Then what am I?” she presses, her eyes locking onto mine. “Tell me, Romeo. What am I to you?”

The words catch in my throat, a tangle of emotions I can’t untangle fast enough. I want to tell her the truth—that she’s everything to me. That she’s the one thing keeping me grounded, keeping me human. The words won’t come.

Instead, I take another step closer, closing the distance between us. “You’ll never have to fear anyone again,” I say, my voice low but steady. “Not Salvatore. Not anyone. Not even me.”

Her breath catches, and for a moment, the fire in her eyes softens. “You can’t promise that,” she says quietly, her voice trembling.

“I can,” I reply firmly. “I will.”

The air between us feels heavy, charged with everything we’re not saying. Her lips part, as if she wants to argue, but no words come out. My hand lifts, hesitating for only a moment before brushing against her cheek. She doesn’t pull away, and the tension shifts, softening into something fragile.

Outside, there’s a clap of thunder. We both startle, then turn back to look at one another.

“Viviana,” I start, but before I can continue, the door to the library bursts open, and Matteo strides in, his expression grim.

“Romeo,” he says, his voice urgent. “We have a problem.”

I drop my hand, the moment shattered as I turn to face him. “What is it?”

“It’s the docks,” Matteo says, his tone clipped. “The operation backfired. Salvatore’s men were waiting for us.”

“Who?” I demand, my voice cold and sharp. “Who did they take?”

“Marco,” Matteo replies, his jaw tightening. “He’s alive, but barely. Salvatore’s holding him and sent a message.”

“What message?” I growl, my fists clenching at my sides.

Matteo hesitates, glancing at Viviana before continuing. “He’s threatening to execute Marco unless you surrender. He wants you to come to him, alone.”

The room falls silent, the weight of Matteo’s words settling heavily between us. I feel Viviana’s eyes on me, her tension radiating like a second pulse.

“If I don’t?” I ask, though I already know the answer.

“Then Marco dies,” Matteo says grimly. “Slowly.”

My jaw tightens, my mind racing with possibilities. Salvatore thinks he’s cornered me, but he’s underestimated just how far I’m willing to go to end this. Still, the risk is higher now, and every move I make from this point forward has to be calculated.

“You can’t go,” Viviana says suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension.

I turn to her, surprised by the conviction in her tone. “This isn’t your decision.”

“No, but it’s yours,” she replies, stepping closer. “If you walk into his trap, you won’t come back. Don’t give him that satisfaction.”

Her concern stirs something deep inside me, but I push it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “I’ll handle it,” I say simply, turning back to Matteo. “Make sure Viviana isn’t left alone. I want every route in and out of this estate secured.”

“Marco?” Matteo asks.

I glance at Viviana, her wide, worried eyes meeting mine. “We’ll get him back,” I say, the promise heavy with unspoken determination.

Viviana steps forward, her hand brushing against mine as though she wants to stop me. “Romeo…”

“I’ll be okay,” I repeat, my voice softer this time. “Trust me.”

“Romeo, we really need to talk…” she starts to say.

“I can’t talk anymore right now, Vivianna,” I tell her, pressing a quick kiss on her lips. “We can talk when I get back. I will get back, I promise you.”

She doesn’t reply, but the look in her eyes stays with me as I move to follow Matteo out of the room. As much as I hate to admit it, Viviana is right. This is a trap.

I’ve never been one to play by the rules, and Salvatore is about to learn just how dangerous that can be, but what if he has outplayed me this time?