Page 31

Chapter Twenty-One

Francesca

I expect to wake up alone, except I don’t.

I turn onto my side and find Dante still beside me, asleep. It’s the first time I’ve seen him like this, unguarded, utterly defenseless, and it does something to me I’m not prepared for. He looks younger in sleep. Softer. Like the man he might have been if we’d met in another life.

This is trust. Real trust. And coming from a man like him, it carries more weight than any whispered words.

It’s in the way he doesn’t lock the door when he joins me at night. The way he took Bruno’s warning seriously and let my brother stand beside him, even after all their tension. He trusted my voice, my judgment. That counts, and I hate how much I like it. I hate how much I like him .

Because this doesn’t feel like survival anymore.

It doesn’t feel like enduring him for the sake of the twins or waiting out a contract I never chose.

Now I find myself counting the hours until I hear his footsteps in the hallway.

Until the mattress dips beneath his weight.

Until he slides beneath the sheets and presses his warm mouth to my shoulder like a question.

I love the heat of him beside me. The way his hand always finds my waist. The way he never says a word at first, like we’ve done this for years. Like this is our normal.

I look at him a little longer. He shifts slightly, a breath deeper than the last, but doesn’t wake.

In the light filtering through the curtains, I can just make out the line of his jaw and the softness of his lashes against his cheeks.

It’s almost too much, this glimpse of the man behind the monster.

The man who once spit in my face is the same one who now falls asleep, holding me like I’m something precious.

I should get up. Alessio’s fencing lesson is soon, and I need to make sure Lucia eats more than two strawberries for breakfast. I have things to do. Lists to check. Distractions to cling to.

But instead, I reach out, just lightly.

My fingertips trace the edge of Dante’s wrist where it lies draped across my stomach. His skin is warm. Alive. Human.

A part of me whispers danger, but another part whispers stay.

Actions speak louder than words, and until recently, his words meant nothing compared to the memory of the cruelty he showed me.

But the thing is, his actions have changed now without an agenda, and the battle inside me is raging at a far more even field.

It seems that divorce and my escape are losing their spot at the forefront of my mind more and more.

I sigh and shift, trying to slide out of his hold, but the moment I move, his arm tightens around me. He buries his face against my neck with a soft groan.

“I love the way you smell,” he mumbles into my skin, his voice thick with sleep.

God.

I close my eyes, swallowing hard. I love the way you smell too. I’ve been burying my face in his pillow every morning like some pathetic girl with a crush, telling myself it’s just comfort. Just routine. But I know better.

“I have to get up,” I whisper. “The kids are probably already stirring, and Alessio has fencing this morning.”

He presses a lazy kiss just beneath my ear and groans like the universe has wronged him. “You sure he needs fencing? It’s not very Italian mafia.”

I laugh before I can stop myself, shaking my head. “It’s not supposed to be. Not everything has to be about legacy.”

He releases me with a sigh and rolls onto his back, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’ve ruined me,” he mutters .

“I haven’t even had coffee yet,” I reply, sitting up and stretching.

He looks at me then, eyes heavy-lidded, hair a mess, and still somehow the most beautiful contradiction of a man I’ve ever known. “Still,” he says, “you’re doing a pretty damn good job of it.”

“Don’t you have a meeting this morning?” I ask as I slide out of bed and reach for my robe.

Dante groans again. “Yeah. A breakfast one. I’ll leave soon.”

I tie the sash around my waist and head toward the bathroom. “I’ll let Nina know Lucia’s tutor should be here any minute. I’m just going to shower first.”

His voice follows me, low and teasing. “You offering me an invite to join you?”

I pause with my hand on the doorframe and glance back at him. There’s a lazy grin tugging at his lips, but something vulnerable flashes behind his eyes. Hope? Maybe even affection, and that’s somehow worse than the question.

It’s too intimate, too real, too much like a relationship.

I don’t answer. But he reads the silence like he always does.

His smile fades before I can even say no. “Forget it,” he mutters, shifting onto his back. “If I step in there with you, we’ll both be late.”

I give him a small, grateful smile and slip into the bathroom.

The water is quick and scalding, but not enough to quiet the thoughts spiraling in my head. When I finally emerge wrapped in my nanny outfit, the hallway is alive with the sound of giggles and pirate curses.

I follow the noise to Alessio’s room, where I find Lucia doubled over on the floor, laughing so hard she’s red in the face. Alessio, on the other hand, is flailing like a fish in a net, halfway into his fencing uniform and clearly losing the battle.

“Cece, this thing is cursed!” He huffs, tangled in one sleeve.

Lucia gasps between giggles. “He’s stuck! Like a trapped crab!”

I laugh despite myself. “A very dramatic one.”

Alessio glares at both of us. “I’ll have you know this is a royal pirate uniform, and it’s clearly been sabotaged.”

I kneel beside him and start helping him out of the mess of fabric. “Well, let’s un-sabotage you, Captain Calamity.”

He grins as I free his arm. And just like that, the world narrows for a second to this. Laughter. Fabric. Fencing gear. His sister’s snort as she rolls on the carpet. The sweet, messy beauty of a moment that feels a lot like peace.

By the time we make it to the kitchen, the smell of coffee and warm toast wraps around us like a blanket. Nina is already bustling at the stove, flipping something in a pan, while the twins scramble into their seats with the kind of energy only children and madmen possess.

Lucia hums as she stirs her yogurt, swinging her legs under the chair. Alessio sits a little straighter in his fencing uniform, clearly feeling very dashing after surviving his earlier wardrobe crisis.

I’m pouring juice when I hear the creak of the stairs behind me, and then I hear Dante’s sure and heavy footsteps.

He strides into the kitchen, fully dressed in dark slacks and a navy button-up, hair damp from the shower, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He looks good, too good, and he knows it.

He heads straight for the espresso machine, moving with practiced ease, and takes the tiny shot of caffeine like a ritual. Then he turns, dark eyes scanning the room until they land on me.

He kisses the top of Lucia’s head first—earning a delighted squeal, then Alessio’s hair, ruffling it with a rough sort of affection.

And then he turns to me, his dark eyes far too hypnotic.

There’s no warning as he steps in close, cups my jaw gently, and kisses me.

Not a peck, not something subtle and secret.

No, this is full and firm, claiming and deliberate.

His mouth lingers just long enough for heat to crawl up my neck, for my breath to catch, and for the entire kitchen to go silent.

Lucia gasps, then giggles. “Papa kissed Cece!”

Alessio looks scandalized. “You’re not supposed to do that in front of children.”

Dante just smirks, unapologetic. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He brushes a thumb across my cheek and murmurs, “Have a good morning,” like he didn’t just leave me blinking and breathless, and then he’s grabbing his keys and walking out the door without another word.

I stand there for a beat, trying to pull myself together while the twins burst into giggles again. My heart is doing ridiculous things in my chest.

That wasn’t for show—that was a message, and I’m still reeling from it when I gather my things, kiss Lucia goodbye, and head for the car with Alessio in tow.

When we walk out, I hesitate on the last step, tightening my hold on Alessio’s hand as I see Fulvio standing by the car alone.

“Where’s Tino?” I ask, eyeing the empty driver’s seat as I approach.

“He had a family emergency.” Fulvio opens the back door for me with a stiff nod. “I’m taking you today.”

I hesitate. “Don’t you think that’s a lot? Driving and guarding?”

“I can multitask. It’s not like it’s anything complicated.”

“I’m sure you can,” I say as I slide into the back seat with Alessio.

He closes the door, then climbs into the driver’s seat without looking at me. “I go where I’m told.”

I settle in, watching the trees blur past the window, and try to ignore the shift in the air as I keep Alessio’s hand in mine.

Fulvio may say he doesn’t mind, but he minds. I can feel it in the way he grips the wheel, the way he doesn’t speak unless spoken to.

The road is wrong.

It takes me a full minute to realize it, and even then, I don’t want to believe it.

I glance out the window, then at Fulvio’s face in the rearview mirror, tight, unreadable.

The usual landmarks are missing, and a sick coil of tension unfurls in my stomach like smoke from a fire I didn’t know had started.

“Fulvio,” I say, keeping my tone neutral and calm. “You missed the turn.”

He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t even blink. His hands stay on the wheel, and his eyes are focused straight ahead like he can’t hear me, or worse, he doesn’t care to.

“That’s not the way to the academy,” I repeat, louder this time. Alessio’s humming dies in his throat. He glances toward the front seat, confusion etched across his features.

“I said,” firmer now, “this isn’t the way.”

Still nothing. Not a twitch, not a flicker. Just silence, heavy and pressing.

I reach for my phone, my fingers slick with sudden sweat, fumbling the screen before finally hitting Dante’s contact.

My thumb hovers for a split second before I hit call and, without waiting, drop the phone to the floor.

I nudge it beneath the seat with my foot, praying he answers, praying he hears something, a voice, a scream, a location, anything.

“Fulvio?” My voice rises, strained and tight, the panic coiling tighter in my chest like barbed wire. “Why are you taking Cherry Lane?”

“Cece?” Alessio whispers beside me, his voice shaking. “What’s happening?”

And then, Fulvio finally speaks, sharp and venom-laced. “Shut your fucking mouth.”

Alessio flinches, and my heart stalls.

Stunned silence crashes over us. Nobody would ever dare speak like that to the capo’s wife, much less to his heir.

“What…?” I breathe, barely able to find my voice. “Fulvio, what are you doing?”

“You’re such a fucking waste of space,” he mutters, louder now, his teeth clenched like he’s talking to a ghost only he can see. “Spoiled little brat. I should’ve done this months ago.”

The words slam into me like a blow. Alessio tenses beside me, shrinking into the seat. I see the fear in his eyes now. He knows something’s wrong. He knows this isn’t just a detour anymore.

I unbuckle my seatbelt with trembling fingers and shift my body slowly, carefully, placing myself between Alessio and the front seat, angling just enough to block Fulvio’s line of sight while my hand creeps toward the steering wheel.

But Fulvio sees; of course he does.

“Don’t,” he snarls, sounding feral and unhinged. “Don’t you fucking move, you whore.”

I freeze.

“I did everything,” he spits out. “Everything. Took orders, cleaned up messes, even let that worthless bastard put his dick in my ass just to climb, just to earn my place beside Dante. And for what? To babysit you?” He barks a bitter laugh, his eyes wild in the mirror.

“A glorified nanny, that’s what I became. But not anymore.”

I swallow the rising bile. My pulse pounds in my ears. I should stay quiet, but I can’t. I need to keep him focused on me, not Alessio.

“Clearly, you weren’t worthy of the position,” I say, my voice cold, even. “Otherwise, you’d be sitting at his right hand, not driving his wife and child in circles like a coward.”

His eyes snap to the mirror, blazing. “We’ll see what you say when you’re tied to a chair and the boy’s screaming in front of you. You think you’re brave? Let’s see how long that lasts. ”

That’s it! That’s the last straw. I glance once at Alessio, pale, frozen in fear, and I lunge.

I throw my body forward, my hand reaching blindly for the wheel. Fulvio shouts, swerving just as I grab it.

The car veers sharply to the left, metal screaming as we plow off the road and into the trees.

The impact comes fast and violent. My head slams into something hard, stars bursting behind my eyes.

My ears ring. The world goes white. Alessio screams. I hear the glass shatter before I feel the burn and my skin being opened.

The moment we stop, I don’t think. I only move.

I shove the door open with every ounce of strength I have and scramble out, dragging Alessio with me. My legs are trembling, and my knees are burning from the shards of gravel, but I don’t stop until I’ve wrapped myself around him.

He’s sobbing. “Cece! Cece, I’m scared.”

I kiss the top of his head. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

Fulvio’s door slams. Heavy footsteps. The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

I turn, partially shielding Alessio with my body as I look straight into the barrel of the gun.

“Is that what you are? A man who kills women and children in the middle of the road.”

He sneers as Alessio sobs harder. “You don’t count. You’re just his bitch. He’ll find another in a month, but him?” He points the gun toward Alessio’s face, just visible over my side. “Losing him will make Dante suffer.”

I throw myself over Alessio, body curling around him just as the shot rings out. Pain explodes in my side, white-hot, screaming, tearing through skin and bone and breath.

I can’t scream. I can’t breathe. All I know is Alessio’s little hands are clutching at me, and he’s sobbing, his voice high and panicked.

“Cece? Cece?! Mama!” He wails.

A car screeches. Someone shouts. Fulvio’s footsteps thunder and fade.

He’s running. I think he’s gone. I hope he’s gone. I hope someone finds Alessio. I hope… he’s okay.

I try to say it. I try to tell him I’ve got him, that it’s okay. But blood bubbles up in my throat, and all I can do is choke.

The cold seeps in.

Dante…

I see his face. I see the way he kissed me this morning like I was his. Like he believed in something.

I hope he knows. Tell him I tried. Tell him I protected what was his.

“Mama!” Alessio cries again.

And then everything goes dark.