Page 30

Chapter Thirty

Romeo

The ride back to the penthouse is suffocating, the silence between us heavy and impenetrable.

Viviana sits beside me, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her tear-streaked face turned toward the window. She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t say a word, but her body radiates anger and devastation so palpable it’s almost unbearable.

I clench my jaw, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. My mind races with everything that’s happened, every decision I’ve made, and every word she spat at me before we left the warehouse.

I know she’s furious—I know—but what else could I have done? Saving Antonio would have put her at risk, and that’s a gamble I wasn’t willing to take.

We reach the penthouse, and I follow her inside, the weight of her silence following me like a shadow. She heads straight for her room without so much as a glance in my direction, her movements stiff and mechanical, as if she’s barely holding herself together.

“Viviana,” I call after her, my voice sharper than I intended. She doesn’t stop.

“Viviana!” I snap, striding after her. She finally halts, spinning on her heel to face me, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Romeo, I don’t want to talk about it,” she mutters, her voice trembling with anger and grief. “What do you want, Romeo? To justify what you did? To tell me how it was all for my own good?”

“It was for your own good,” I say, my voice hard. “Do you think I wanted to leave him there? Do you think it was easy for me to make that call?”

“You didn’t even try!” she yells, her voice breaking. “You didn’t care! He was my father, Romeo. My father!”

Her words hit like a blow, and I take a step closer, lowering my voice. “He was a liability, Viviana. If I’d tried to save him, we might not have made it out alive. I couldn’t risk that.”

“Couldn’t risk it?” she repeats, her tone bitter. “You saved Marco, didn’t you?”

I recoil slightly, her words cutting deeper than I expected. “Yes, but he could walk out of there,” I say, my voice quieter now. “Your father was already dying. He told you that himself. I did what I had to do. For you. For our child.”

Her hand moves instinctively to her stomach, and her expression twists with pain. “Don’t you dare use our child to justify this,” she says, her voice shaking. “I won’t raise my baby in this world, Romeo. Not with you. Not like this.”

The finality in her voice sends a jolt of panic through me. “You’re not leaving,” I say, my tone firm, almost desperate. “You can’t just walk away.”

“Watch me,” she replies coldly, turning her back on me and heading for her room.

I follow her, my frustration boiling over. “Viviana, stop!” I bark, grabbing her wrist. She yanks it free, her glare sharp enough to cut.

“Don’t touch me,” she snaps, her voice low and venomous. “I’ve had enough of your orders, your control. I can’t do this anymore, Romeo.”

She disappears into her room, slamming the door behind her, and I hear the lock click into place.

I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. The sound of her sobs filters through the wood, each one a knife twisting in my chest.

Hours later, I sit in the study, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring at nothing. The city lights flicker beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but they’re distant, meaningless. My mind replays the events at the warehouse, Salvatore’s smirk, the blood on my hands. Antonio’s lifeless body. And Viviana’s tear-streaked face.

The drink burns as it slides down my throat, but it does nothing to dull the ache in my chest. Her words echo in my head, louder than any gunshot I’ve ever heard. “I can’t do this anymore, Romeo.”

The door creaks open, and Matteo steps inside, his expression cautious. He’s always been good at reading a room, but tonight he doesn’t bother with pleasantries.

“She’s serious, you know,” he says, leaning against the wall. “She’s not going to forgive you for this.”

I glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. “I don’t need your input right now, Matteo.”

“No, but you need someone to tell you the truth,” he replies. “You pushed her too far, Romeo. She’s not like us. She doesn’t live for this chaos, this violence. And now? She might not even stay.”

“She’s not leaving,” I say firmly, my voice low.

“Is that what you think?” Matteo asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, she looks like someone who’s already halfway out the door.”

His words send a fresh wave of panic through me, but I mask it with anger. “She won’t leave,” I repeat. “She has nowhere to go.”

Matteo shakes his head, his expression grim. “You’re wrong. She’ll find a way. If you keep going like this, you’ll lose her, Romeo. You’ll lose your child too.”

The thought makes my chest tighten painfully, and I glance away, swallowing hard. “I’ve done everything to protect her,” I mutter, more to myself than to him. “Everything.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Matteo says quietly. “She doesn’t want protection. She wants trust. She wants to feel like she has a choice.”

I don’t respond, the weight of his words settling heavily in my chest. Matteo sighs and leaves, the door clicking softly behind him, but his presence lingers like a ghost.

I sit there for a long time, staring into the dark glass of the window, my mind racing. Matteo’s right—I’ve pushed her too far. How can I fix this? How do I make her understand that everything I’ve done, every choice I’ve made, has been for her? For us?

I down the rest of my drink, the burn doing little to soothe the storm inside me. My eyes drift toward the hallway, toward the closed door of her room. She’s in there, somewhere between grief and fury, and I’m the reason for both.

The thought claws at me, a feeling I can’t name rising in my chest. For the first time, I wonder if I’ve lost her for good.

The house is unnervingly quiet when the phone call comes. I’m in the study, staring at the remnants of my whiskey, trying to push past the weight of Viviana’s words and Matteo’s warnings. My mind feels like a battlefield, a constant war between what I’ve done and what I need to do to keep her safe.

The phone buzzes on the desk, jolting me from my thoughts. I grab it, recognizing Matteo’s number.

“What is it?” I bark, my voice sharp, already anticipating bad news.

“Romeo,” Matteo says, his tone grim. “We’ve intercepted chatter. Salvatore’s men planted a bomb.”

My blood runs cold. “Where?”

There’s a beat of silence that stretches far too long. “At the estate.”

I shoot to my feet, my chair scraping against the floor. “How long ago did you find out?”

“Minutes, maybe less,” Matteo says quickly. “You need to get Viviana out. Now.”

My chest tightens as I hang up, shoving the phone into my pocket and storming out of the study. The world narrows to one singular thought—Viviana.

I burst into her room without knocking. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her face pale and tear-streaked, but she stiffens when she sees me.

“Romeo—”

“We need to go,” I cut her off, my voice urgent. “Now.”

She stands slowly, her confusion giving way to alarm. “What’s going on?”

“There’s no time to explain,” I snap, scooping her into my arms. “Just trust me.”

“Trust you?” she says incredulously, struggling in my arms. “After everything, you expect me to—”

“Viviana,” I growl. “There’s a bomb. Here. We need to leave. Now.”

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, she’s frozen. Then, without another word, she nods, and we start moving again.

The hallways are eerily silent as we rush through them, the weight of the moment pressing down like a vice. My men meet us at the entrance, their faces grim as they usher us toward the front door. Matteo is waiting there, his jaw clenched as he nods toward me.

“We’ve cleared most of the property,” he says quickly. “There’s no guarantee—”

A deafening blast cuts him off, shaking the ground beneath us. The lights flicker, and the walls shudder as an explosion rips through the building. I grab Viviana, shielding her with my body as debris rains down around us. The heat and noise are overwhelming, my ears ringing as I shout orders to my men.

“We move now!” I bark, pulling Viviana toward the front door. “Go!”

Matteo takes point, leading the way as we run down the hall, the air thick with smoke and chaos. Viviana clings to my arm, her breathing ragged but steady, and I hold onto her tightly, refusing to let go.

By the time we reach the front of the house, my legs are burning, and my chest feels tight from the smoke. The door bursts open, and we spill out onto the gravel drive, the cool night air hitting us like a blessing.

Viviana coughs, her face pale and streaked with soot, but she’s alive.

That’s all that matters.

***

The house is gone.

I stand in the circular driveway, staring at the burning shell of what was once my country fortress. Flames lick at the edges of the building, and smoke billows into the sky, the acrid scent filling the air.

The wail of sirens echoes in the distance, but I don’t care about the chaos around me. All I see is the destruction—my empire, my sanctuary, reduced to ash.

Several of my men didn’t make it. Matteo stands beside me, his expression grim as he lists the names of those we’ve lost. Each one feels like a knife to the gut, a reminder of the cost of this war.

“Romeo,” Viviana’s voice cuts through the haze, trembling but steady.

I turn to her, expecting anger, fear—anything but the blank expression she gives me. Her eyes are red, her hands trembling as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she says quietly, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames.

My stomach drops. “Viviana—”

“No,” she cuts me off, shaking her head. “I can’t. I thought…I thought I could handle it. The violence, the danger. This?” She gestures to the burning building behind us, her eyes filling with tears. “This is too much. I can’t raise a child in this. I won’t.”

“Viviana, listen to me,” I say, stepping closer, my voice urgent. “I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right. You and the baby—”

“I don’t want promises, Romeo!” she yells, her voice breaking. “I want a life. A real life. You can’t give me that.”

Her words hit like a physical blow, and I feel the ground shift beneath me. “Don’t do this,” I say, my voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Please.”

“I have to,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “For the baby. For me.”

She turns and walks away, her steps quick and unsteady, and for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to do. I watch her go, my chest tight and my fists clenched, the words I need to say lodged in my throat.

Matteo places a hand on my shoulder, his expression somber. “You need to let her go, Romeo. At least for now.”

I shake my head, my teeth grinding together. “I know,” I say quietly, my voice filled with resolve. “I’ll bring her back. No matter what it takes.”

As I stare at the flames consuming what’s left of my home, a sinking feeling settles in my chest.

For the first time, I wonder if I’ve lost her forever.