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Viviana

A Year Later

The countryside hums with the sound of cicadas and the gentle rustle of leaves in the summer breeze.

The rebuilt villa, with its whitewashed walls and sprawling gardens, is quiet except for the occasional peal of laughter from Leo. Romeo stands by the open window of our home, his broad frame relaxed as he gazes out at our son playing in the grass.

The late afternoon sunlight streams through, casting a warm glow over him. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, and his expression is one I’ve rarely seen before—a mix of peace and pure contentment.

This past year has felt like both a lifetime and a fleeting moment. After everything we endured—the chaos, the loss, the danger—we’ve finally found a life where each day is filled with quiet moments like this.

Our wedding, held in the garden just outside this very home, was simple and intimate. Matteo stood as Romeo’s best man, and a handful of close friends surrounded us as we said our vows. It was perfect in its simplicity, a ceremony built on the strength of what we’d overcome together.

Now, the house has become our sanctuary, a place far removed from the darkness of the Mafia world. It’s a home filled with laughter, love, and the soft giggles of Leo, who seems determined to explore every inch of the garden.

It’s here that I’ve rediscovered my passion for art and opened a small gallery in the nearby town, while Romeo has committed himself fully to this new life, leaving the violence and chaos behind.

The familiar hum of a car engine pulls me from my thoughts. Matteo steps out moments later, his suit as sharp as ever, despite the rustic charm of our countryside home. He looks out of place here, but the warmth in his eyes as Leo toddles toward him tells me he belongs in our lives just as much as this home does.

“You’ve turned soft, boss,” Matteo says with a smirk, crouching to ruffle Leo’s hair. The fondness in his voice, though rare, is unmistakable.

Romeo folds his arms across his chest, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I prefer the term ‘content’.”

Matteo rises, chuckling, but the playful air shifts as he pulls a slim file from his briefcase. “I didn’t come here just to see the little prince,” he says, handing the folder to Romeo. “There’s a business opportunity. Legitimate, of course. I thought you might be interested.”

Romeo takes the folder but doesn’t open it. Instead, he lets it hang at his side as he regards Matteo with a look of finality. “I told you, Matteo. That life—any part of it—is behind me.”

Matteo’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “You’ve got a good thing going here,” he says after a pause. “You know as well as I do that leaving doesn’t always mean being left alone.”

Romeo’s jaw tightens, but he nods, his grip on the file firm. “I’ve made my choice. I’m not going back.”

Matteo studies him for a moment longer before relenting with a nod. “Fair enough,” he says, slipping the briefcase back into the car. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

As Matteo drives away, I step up beside Romeo, slipping my hand into his. “You don’t miss it, do you?” I ask softly, my gaze on Leo, who’s now chasing butterflies in the garden.

“Not for a second,” Romeo says, his voice resolute. “This is where I belong.”

***

That evening, as the sunset bathes the villa in a warm light, the three of us sit together on the terrace. The table cleared from dinner, still holds the faint scent of roasted vegetables and fresh bread.

Leo is perched on Romeo’s lap, his tiny hands patting at Romeo’s chest as he giggles, his laughter the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

I watch them together, my heart swelling. Romeo’s once sharp edges have softened in moments like this, and the sight of him doting on our son is something I’ll never take for granted. He’s a man transformed, yet still unmistakably himself—strong, protective, and unwavering.

“I never thought we’d have this,” I admit quietly, my gaze shifting to the horizon. The hills roll endlessly, their edges blurred by the golden light of the setting sun.

Romeo looks at me, his expression soft but serious. “We fought for this,” he says simply. “Every step, every sacrifice—it was all for this.”

Leo coos in his lap, reaching up to touch Romeo’s face. Romeo chuckles, capturing Leo’s hand in his much larger one and pressing a kiss to his tiny fingers. “I’ll never stop fighting to keep it,” he adds, his voice low but full of promise.

His words wrap around me like a shield, and I reach for his free hand, threading my fingers through his. “I know,” I say, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. “I’ll fight for it too. For us.”

We linger there for a while, neither of us ready to leave.

Eventually, Romeo takes my hand, leading me back to the terrace. The night air is cool, the stars beginning to scatter across the darkening sky. He pulls me into his arms, his hands resting on my hips as he gazes down at me.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice low but filled with conviction.

“For what?” I ask, my brow furrowing.

“For believing in me,” he says. “For giving me a second chance. For giving me a family.”

Tears prick at my eyes, and I smile, reaching up to cup his face. “You’re worth believing in, Romeo,” I say softly. “Even when you don’t think so.”

He leans down, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, filled with all the love and promises he doesn’t always say aloud.

When we finally pull apart, the stars are reflected in his dark eyes, and I know, without a doubt, that this is where I’m meant to be.

Together, we sit on the terrace, our hands entwined, as the night stretches on, our peaceful life unfolding before us like a promise kept.

The end.