Page 71 of Legacy (The Sovereigns #2)

Angelo

Two weeks Later

I wait until she’s curled up on the couch, blanket over her legs, hair up in a bun.

There’s tea in her hands. One of the mint blends she likes that smells like toothpaste.

She’s peaceful.

Glowing.

Which is exactly why I hesitate.

Because what I’m about to say might make her less peaceful.

I clear my throat.

She glances up, one brow raised. “Yes, Amor?”

Shit. That tone. She already knows I’m about to confess something.

I walk toward her slowly, hands in the pockets of my pants like maybe that’ll soften it. “I’ve got something to ask you.”

Her eyes narrow—half amusement, half suspicion.

I lower myself beside her. “I, uh… still have Gio. Had Nico keeping him alive until I could ask if you wanted to do the honors.”

She blinks. “The honors?”

I nod once. “He’s in the basement. At the townhouse. He’s in pretty bad shape, but still alive. You could choose how I end him—or do it yourself.”

She stares at me.

I brace for possible tears, bad memories .

I look into those eyes for any hint of hurt.

But instead—

“Oh,” she says calmly. “Yeah… about that.”

I pause. “About what?”

She sets her tea down.

“I had Enzo and Nico move him.”

I blink. “You what?”

“To Santo’s house,” she adds casually. “Apparently he’s made some sort of sensory deprivation… pit. Hole. Whatever. Gio’s there.”

My jaw opens. Closes. Opens again.

“What the fuck?”

She smiles sweetly. “You left him barely alive. I made an executive decision.”

I lean back, dazed. “You made a what?”

She pats my thigh. “Don’t worry. We’ll kill him soon.”

I’m still trying to process it when she stands, grabs my keys, and tosses me a look over her shoulder.

“Come on. Let’s go to the townhouse. I got something to show you.”

We drive in silence. The kind where the air hums with something… good.

She’s drumming her fingers on her thigh, half-smiling, as I turn onto the street I know well.

My brows draw in. “Are you going to tell me now why we’re here?”

She doesn’t answer.

I park.

She gets out.

I follow—and that’s when I realize it.

The townhouse .

The windows are new. The door’s been repainted. There’s light inside. Curtains. Fresh mulch lining the walkway. A new number plate. The whole block…

I turn in a slow circle.

Everything’s being redone.

My voice is rough. “What the hell is this?”

She beams. Actually beams. “Luciano’s men were still in town, so I borrowed a few.”

“You borrowed them.”

She shrugs, leading me up the steps. “Technically you share them now. Happy alliance.”

I pause just before the door. “You did this?”

“Wait,” she says, ignoring the question. “There’s more.”

She opens the door, and I step inside.

The smell hits me first. Wood polish. Paint. Fresh air.

The foyer is lit. The walls are clean.

It looks… alive again.

Like someone breathed life back into a place that had been dying since I was a kid .

A place I made my personal hell.

She turns to me, smile soft now. Not proud. Not teasing. Just… hopeful.

“I renovated it,” she says. “I thought you might want it that way.”

I can’t speak.

My hands clench at my sides, throat tight.

“When I read her journal… this place mattered to her,” she continues. “This was her safe place. It mattered. So I wanted it to be what it was. For her. For you. So I started with this house.”

I swallow. “ This house?”

She nods. “I also… may have purchased the block.”

My head jerks toward her. “ You purchased the block?”

She gives me a wide-eyed look of mock innocence. “Well technically you purchased the block, everything you own is mine, right? You’ve said that. Pretty sure it’s in writing.”

I stare at her. “So you’re telling me… I bought the block.”

“Yes,” she says, smug. “You’re such a generous man.”

I run a hand through my hair, pacing a few steps. “Why, Adriana?”

And her voice, soft now, quiet and sure—sinks straight into my ribs.

“I thought we could turn the houses into safe havens. For the women you find. For the ones like…”

She trails off.

I meet her eyes. “Like my mom?”

She nods.

Something punches the air from my lungs. I stand there, stunned.

Because she didn’t just fix the house.

She didn’t just make an executive decision.

She didn’t just survive.

She grew.

Her strength.

Her bravery.

Her big beautiful brain.

I’m obsessed with it.

Damn, my wife is perfect.

She’s building something.

Something bigger.

Something sacred.

For them. For me.

For us.

I love her. So damn much. She’s all I ever wanted

And I’m going to protect this life I’ve made with her. Protect her.

I’ve burned so much in this life. I’ve spilled blood, broken bones, crushed men for less than they’ve taken from me.

And if anyone ever tries to take this from her …

Or that spark in those gorgeous eyes ever again

Sinner would be a whisper compared to what I’d become, I’ll be everything they’ve ever feared, and worse.

I step toward her slowly, my hand cupping the back of her neck. My throat tightens when I speak.

I swallow hard, fighting the burn behind my eyes, the war between the man I’ve always been and the man she’s making me want to be.

“You are…”

I shake my head, smiling through it.

“The most remarkable fucking woman I’ve ever met and the best damn thing that’s ever happened to this family.”

She smiles. “You’re not upset I took your torture chamber away?”

I grin. “Fuck no, this is better. This isn’t death, it’s rebirth. Built by the only woman who could ever redeem me.”

She leans in, eyes glowing. “Good. Because this place is perfect to bring the babies.”

I freeze.

My eyes trail down to her stomach, my heart stills.

“Babies? We’re having babies?”

Her nose scrunches and she chuckles, “Not yet, but the room I renovated upstairs is gorgeous and… I want to try.”

Something in me breaks. In the best way.

I scoop her up into my arms, and she lets out a surprised squeal, laughing into my neck as I carry her up the stairs.