Page 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Romeo

The car is silent except for the hum of the engine and the faint rustle of Matteo flipping through his phone, presumably scanning for updates on Marco’s whereabouts.

I sit back, my hand resting on my knee, fingers tapping rhythmically as I keep my thoughts in check.

Beneath my calm exterior, my mind is a storm.

Matteo glances at me from the passenger seat, his face grim. “You don’t have to come, Romeo. Let me handle this.”

I turn my head slightly, meeting his gaze with a look that cuts through any further suggestion. “I’m not letting you handle this alone. Marco knows too much, and he’s already made it clear he’s targeting Viviana. That makes this personal.”

Matteo exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I get that, but you’ve got a newborn, boss. A son. You’ve got more to lose now than ever before.”

“That’s exactly why I’m coming,” I say evenly, my voice calm but steely. “I’m not delegating my family’s safety. Not to you, not to anyone.”

He mutters something under his breath about stubbornness, but he doesn’t argue further. He knows me well enough to understand when my mind is set. I glance out the window as the city blurs past, my thoughts shifting to Viviana and the baby.

They’re all I care about now.

The empire, the money, the power—it’s meaningless if I can’t protect them.

Matteo’s phone buzzes, and he answers it with a curt, “Talk.” A moment later, he nods and leans toward me. “Marco’s been spotted near the warehouse on the east docks. He’s not alone.”

“How many?” I ask, my voice sharp.

“Four, maybe five,” Matteo replies. “Looks like he’s trying to drum up support from some of the old crew. Disgruntled types who aren’t happy about you pulling back from operations.”

My jaw tightens, anger simmering beneath the surface. “He knows what happens to people who threaten my loved ones. He’s just too stupid to believe it applies to him.”

“He’s desperate,” Matteo says. “Desperate men do dangerous things.”

I nod, my mind already calculating. Desperation makes people unpredictable, and unpredictability gets people killed. It’s a lesson I learned early and one I intend to teach Marco tonight.

The car slows as we approach the warehouse district, the familiar stench of salt and oil wafting through the air. It’s a place I’ve used countless times, a neutral ground for meetings and deals. But tonight, it’s where I’ll end this once and for all.

Matteo turns to me as the car stops. “I’ll go in first, clear the way. You stay back until I signal.”

“No,” I say firmly, my hand already on the door handle. “I’m not sitting in the car like a helpless bystander. This is my fight.”

Matteo groans, muttering something about how fatherhood hasn’t mellowed me in the slightest. “Fine,” he says, “but try not to get yourself killed. Viviana will never forgive me.”

“Don’t worry about Viviana,” I say darkly. “Focus on Marco.”

The air is thick with tension as we approach the warehouse. The old, rusted building looms ahead, its windows dark and foreboding. Matteo motions for me to stay back, but I follow closely, my footsteps silent. The faint sound of voices drifts from inside, confirming that Marco isn’t alone.

We slip through a side entrance, the shadows swallowing us whole. My hand brushes the grip of my gun, the cold steel familiar and reassuring. Matteo scans the room ahead, his eyes sharp, and motions for me to stay low.

Marco’s voice carries through the space, loud and cocky. “Romeo thinks he can just walk away from all this? Leave us to fend for ourselves while he plays house with his pretty little donna?”

My blood boils at his words, my grip tightening on the gun. Matteo places a hand on my arm, a silent reminder to stay calm.

Another voice chimes in, gruff and uncertain. “You sure this is a good idea, Marco? He’s still Romeo Valenti. You don’t just cross a man like that.”

Marco laughs, the sound grating. “He’s soft now. A wife, a kid? He’s not the man he used to be. He’s vulnerable.”

The arrogance in his tone is infuriating, but it also gives me clarity. He’s underestimating me, and that will be his downfall.

Matteo signals, and we move forward, silent as shadows. The men are gathered in a circle, their guns slung low, their postures relaxed. They don’t expect an ambush. Marco stands at the center, gesturing wildly as he speaks, his back to us.

I step into the light, my gun aimed at Marco’s head. “You were saying something about me being soft?”

The room goes still, the air crackling with tension as the men whirl around. Marco freezes, his face draining of color as his gaze meets mine. “R-Romeo,” he stammers, trying to recover. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“It looks like you were plotting against me,” I say coldly, my voice low and steady.

Marco’s men glance at each other, their loyalty wavering. Matteo steps forward, his gun raised, and the tension snaps. One of Marco’s men reaches for his weapon, and all hell breaks loose.

The room explodes into chaos as Marco’s men scramble for their weapons. Time seems to slow as I raise my gun, Matteo already firing off a shot that takes down the first man who reaches for his pistol. The sharp crack of gunfire reverberates through the warehouse, the air thick with adrenaline and the acrid scent of smoke.

I duck behind a metal crate as bullets ricochet off the walls, my focus razor-sharp. Marco’s voice cuts through the commotion, shouting orders, his tone panicked and desperate. He didn’t expect this. He thought I’d hesitate, that I’d let him play his game unchecked.

He was wrong.

A man rounds the corner of my cover, his weapon raised. I fire before he has the chance, the force of the shot sending him sprawling to the ground. My movements are automatic, honed by years of survival in this brutal world.

There’s no hesitation, no room for mercy. This isn’t just about me anymore—this is about Viviana, about our son.

Matteo moves with equal precision, his shots echoing in quick succession as he clears the far side of the room. The remaining men falter, their confidence crumbling under the weight of our assault.

They weren’t ready for this. They thought Marco’s arrogance would carry them through. Now, they’re paying the price. Marco’s eyes meet mine from across the room, wide and panicked.

He’s cornered, his men falling one by one, and he knows it’s over. He stumbles back, his hands raised in a feeble attempt at surrender.

“Romeo,” he starts, his voice shaking. “We can talk about this. You don’t have to—”

“Save your breath,” I cut him off, my voice cold as ice. I step closer, my gun trained on him. “You put my family in danger. There’s no coming back from that.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” I snap. “Now you’ll pay for it.”

He lunges suddenly, reaching for a discarded gun on the ground, but I’m faster. My shot hits him square in the chest, the force knocking him back against the wall. He collapses, his body crumpling to the floor, and the room falls silent.

Matteo steps up beside me, his gun still drawn as he surveys the aftermath. The warehouse is littered with bodies, the air heavy with the scent of blood and gunpowder. My chest heaves as I take in the scene, the adrenaline slowly fading.

“It’s done,” Matteo says, his voice steady but low. “Marco’s finished.”

I nod, my grip on the gun loosening. “Make sure the cleanup is thorough. No loose ends.”

He glances at me. “You okay?”

“I’m going to the hospital,” I say simply. “I’ve kept Viviana waiting long enough.”

Matteo nods, understanding without question. “I’ll handle it. Go.”

The drive back to the hospital is quiet, the tension from the fight replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. My thoughts are consumed by Viviana, by the promise I made her to leave this life behind.

Marco was the last obstacle, the final thread tying me to the chaos and violence I’ve known for so long.

Now, I can finally start fresh.

***

The hospital room is quiet, save for the soft hum of machines and the muffled sounds of nurses outside in the hallway. When I step inside, the weight of the night presses down on me, the adrenaline from the confrontation with Marco still coursing through my veins.

Then I see her.

Viviana is sitting up in the hospital bed, her hands resting protectively over her stomach. Her hair is slightly tousled, her face pale but glowing with an ethereal beauty that takes my breath away. The sight of her alive, safe, is enough to make my knees weak.

Her eyes widen when she sees me, relief flooding her expression. “You’re back,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I cross the room in quick strides, my focus solely on her. The weight of everything I’ve done, everything I’ve sacrificed, melts away as I pull her into my arms. The smell of her, the warmth of her body against mine—it’s everything I need.

“It’s done,” I murmur against her hair. “It’s over.”

She pulls back slightly, her hands rising to cup my face. Her fingers tremble as they trace the sharp lines of my jaw, and her wide, searching eyes meet mine. “You’re sure?” she asks, her voice wavering with hope and fear.

“I’m sure,” I reply firmly, my hands resting on her waist, grounding both of us. “There’s nobody left to come after us. You’re safe. The baby’s safe.”

Her eyes fill with tears, her lips trembling as she nods. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “Thank you for protecting us.”

Her words hit me harder than any bullet ever could, and I lean forward, pressing my forehead to hers. “I would do it a thousand times over,” I say, my voice raw. “For you. For our family.”

I pull up a chair beside her bed, taking her hand in mine. The room feels smaller, quieter, as if the world has finally shrunk down to just the two of us. My thumb brushes over her knuckles, the motion calming both of us as the silence stretches comfortably between us.

“Viviana,” I say finally, breaking the stillness. My voice is low, steady, but inside, my heart is racing. “There’s something I need to ask you.”

She tilts her head, her brows knitting together slightly. “What is it?” she asks softly, her voice laced with curiosity and something deeper—trust.

I reach into the pocket of my jacket, my fingers closing around the small velvet box. My throat tightens as I pull it out, the weight of the moment settling heavily on my shoulders. Her eyes widen as she catches sight of the box, her breath hitching.

I open it slowly, revealing a simple but elegant diamond ring. The light catches on the stone, making it glimmer, but all I can see is the way her lips part, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“I know this hasn’t been a conventional start,” I begin, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me. “We’ve been through more than most couples could ever imagine. You’ve shown me what it means to love, what it means to fight for something bigger than myself. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

Her tears spill over, but she doesn’t wipe them away. Her gaze remains fixed on mine, her expression a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

“Viviana Rossi,” I continue, my voice soft but unwavering, “will you marry me? Not because of obligation, not because of the baby, but because I love you. Completely.”

She’s silent for a moment, her hand rising to cover her mouth. The tears keep falling, and for a brief second, I worry she’ll say no. But then she lowers her hand, a soft, breathless laugh escaping her.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with joy. “Yes, Romeo. I’ll marry you.”

Relief and joy flood through me as I slide the ring onto her finger, my hand trembling slightly. She stares at it for a moment, then looks back at me, her smile radiant despite the tears streaming down her cheeks.

I don’t wait. I pull her into my arms again, my lips finding hers in a kiss that’s full of love, promise, and joy at a future I never thought I could have. She melts into me, her hands tangling in my hair as I hold her as close as I dare, mindful of her still-healing body.

When we finally break apart, I press my forehead to hers, my voice a rough whisper. “For the first time in years, I feel whole. It’s because of you, Viviana.”

She smiles, her hands cupping my face. “You gave me a reason to fight,” she says softly. “For you, for our son.”

I know I’ll do anything to keep this—this life, this family—safe. No matter what.