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Chapter Six

Dante

L ife is taking a turn I didn’t expect, and I’m not entirely sure what to do about it.

First, there’s Don Salvatore and the Vescari family, who are systematically sabotaging my business, chipping away at the foundation like termites. This leads me to a very unpleasant conclusion: There’s a rat in my organization.

They bought Gordo Overseas right from under my nose. How ?

Vito says it was a fluke. I don’t believe in flukes.

So, for the past couple of weeks, I’ve been working on two fronts—trying to secure an alternate route for shipments and, more importantly, smoking out the bastard who betrayed me.

Because when I find him, and I will find him, he will regret the day he was born in ways he can’t even imagine.

And then… there are the unsettling feelings at home. The ones she brought in her wake. The ones she ignites daily.

It started with that ridiculous pizza night. She spoke about creating memories, and I humored her at the time, unsure why. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe curiosity.

But then I saw it. Lucia giggled at something I did.

Alessio looked at me without that wary distance he usually keeps, as if, just for a second, he wasn’t bracing for disappointment.

It woke something in me. Something still and warm. Something that felt like peace—not a feeling I’m familiar with.

And then there’s her.

She’s been in this house for less than a month and somehow carved herself a permanent place, not just in the twins’ lives but in mine.

She’s made herself a quiet kind of solace I didn’t know I needed.

I come home and find laughter in the kitchen and shrieks of hide and seek in the halls. I find her smile, soft, without expectation, without calculation, and it catches me off guard every damn time .

People don’t smile at me like that. Not without wanting something. But she does. And the worst part? I find myself wanting to see that smile more and more.

I watch the way she is with the twins. The patience. The gentleness. No matter what she says, this goes beyond a job.

She cares for them deeply. And I’d wager part of her… already loves them.

And strangely enough, I don’t mind her being around either. She brings a kind of levity I didn’t realize I missed. A quiet kindness that softens the sharp edges of this house, of me, in a way Maria never could.

She doesn’t ask for space in my life. She just… slips into it, like she’s always been there.

Which is probably why, despite the chaos and the constant threats, I’ve been trying to get home before bedtime.

Trying to join them for dinner. Even if it means retreating to my office right after and working until sunrise.

But not tonight. Tonight, I’m not in the kitchen. I’m in the basement of one of our buildings with Vito, a pair of blood-soaked pliers, and a man strapped to a chair who won’t stop screaming.

He’s one of Salvatore’s men, embedded in our operation for a year. And he swears he didn’t know about Gordo.

I don’t believe him .

Vito looks at me, wiping blood off his gloves. “Boss, we just cut off two of his fingers. He’s still screaming the same thing. Maybe it’s not him.”

I don’t answer right away. I just twirl the pliers in my hand and stare at the sobbing mess of a man in front of me .

The part of me that’s tired wants to be done. The part of me that smells blood wants to keep going.

One of them will win.

“You’re telling me you’re not a traitor?”

“Yes,” he chokes out, sobbing. “I am— I’m working for Salvatore, I admit it—but I don’t know anything about a company to buy, I swear. I’m just here to tell Salvatore if you get close to him. Nothing more.”

I sigh and glance over at Vito, who shrugs like What do you want me to say?

And I get it. The guy’s given us so much already, names of Salvatore’s associates we hadn’t even clocked yet.

If he knew about the Gordo move, he would’ve said something.

“Okay. Fine.” I pull out my gun and shoot him. Two to the chest, one to the head.

The Mozambique drill. My signature. Clean. Precise. Unmistakable.

I glance at my watch.

A month ago, I’d have thought: It’s only seven thirty. I’ve got time to help Vito with cleanup.

But now? Now my first thought is: Shit. I missed dinner with the kids. Maybe I can still make it home before they fall asleep .

Because I know that if I walk in and the house is dark, if the twins are already in bed, and if the rooms are quiet and the kitchen is clean… I won’t see her either.

And as pathetic as that is, because God knows I’m aware of it, I want to see her.

Even if all we talk about is the children. Even if it’s just a passing smile across the hallway. Even if it’s her voice murmuring something about Lucia’s dream or Alessio’s new pirate phase.

I want that . Her.

And I don’t know what the hell to do with that truth.

“Why don’t you go home to the bambini? I’ll handle this.”

I nod. Vito is the only man I trust completely. He’s been my consigliere, my best friend, my right hand long before I ever stepped into my father’s shoes.

When I get home, it’s just past eight. The kitchen is spotless, dimly lit, and empty. I let out a small sigh of disappointment.

It’s stupid, I know. But I had a shitty day, and somehow, I want to talk to Alice, even if it’s just about the kids. Even if it’s all pretend.

I head upstairs, trying to come up with an excuse, a question about Lucia’s reading or Alessio’s imagination, something that would justify knocking on her door.

But I stop when I see Lucia’s door slightly ajar and hear Alice’s soft, melodic voice floating out.

I walk slowly to the doorway and pause, listening.

“And they lived happily ever after.”

Lucia’s voice comes next, small and fragile. “Why didn’t my mommy and daddy get a happily ever after? Why did mommy go live with the fairies?”

I tense. Fuck. Talk about a heavy question.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Alice replies, her voice warm and careful.

“Well… you know, happily ever after doesn’t always lo ok the same for everyone. For your mommy and daddy, you and Alessio are the happily ever after.”

“We are?” The hope in Lucia’s voice slams into my chest, sharp and sudden.

“Of course,” Alice says. “You’re both extraordinary. You're proof that your mommy and daddy loved each other.”

God. She’s not wrong—not about the love. It wasn’t for each other, not really. Maria was clever, and I was careless, and we both got what we wanted. But when it came to Lucia and Alessio… that was real. They are the best thing either of us ever did.

And hearing Alice say it, gently, simply, without judgment, does something to me I don’t know how to name.

“Are you getting your happily ever after?” Lucia asks.

She’s talking to Alice. I hold my breath and step closer, peering through the narrow crack in the door, needing to see her face when she replies.

“Maybe one day,” Alice says softly. There’s sorrow in her voice, real and quiet, the kind only grown-ups recognize.

Lucia misses it completely, nuzzling closer to the woman lying beside her in bed.

“Okay, princess. Time to sleep.”

“Time for the monster prayer?” Lucia asks, yawning into Alice’s shoulder.

I frown, unsure what that even means.

Alice laughs gently, and just as I start to pull back, too late, she looks up.

Her eyes meet mine.

Caught. Red-handed. Like the creep I apparently am, spying outside my daughter’s bedroom.

I push the door open, pretending I’m not even a little embarrassed. “I just came to say goodnight.”

Alice sits up quickly, smoothing the skirt that had ridden up her legs, revealing far too much of them for my current state of mind. Long. Curvy. Bare.

Lucia brightens. “Papa! You can do the monster prayer too!”

Alice stands, offering me the smallest smile.

“What do you say?” she says, glancing at Lucia. “Should we teach your dad the monster prayer? That way, he can say it with you when I’m not here.”

I don’t like the way that sounds. Neither does Lucia; her little face pinches, her brows drawing tight.

“It’s better if we all know it, no?” Alice adds quickly, as if catching herself.

I don’t say anything. But inside? I know exactly what I want. I want her to always be here.

Alice picks up Lucia’s hand, then reaches instinctively for mine.

I don’t think she meant anything by it—it’s a soft, natural gesture like all of hers are.

But the moment her fingers brush mine—long, slender, and too delicate for this world, I feel it everywhere. My hand closes around hers reflexively, engulfing her completely.

Something twists in my chest. And something else stirs below the belt, unwanted and undeniable.

She must feel it too. Because a second later, she tries to pull away.

But I tighten my grip. No. Not letting go.

Her throat works in a swallow before she clears it.

“Okay, let’s go. Ready?” She nods at Lucia, then begins, reciting softly, like a lullaby.

“Monsters, monsters, big and tall,

Don’t scare me—just guard us all.

Watch my bed and guard the light,

Keep me safe all through the night.”

I blink, thrown by the quiet sweetness of it. By the way Lucia whispers it with her eyes closed and by the warmth of Alice’s hand still caught in mine.

I tighten my hold again without thinking.

“Come on, Papa,” Lucia whispers, eyes cracking open. “Say it too.”

Ah. Right. What was it again?

Alice repeats the lines gently, and I echo them back—stiff at first, awkward, like I’m reading from a script I don’t quite understand.

But Lucia doesn’t seem to notice. She’s smiling sleepily, already halfway to dreamland.

When we finish, she lets out a content little sigh. “No monsters tonight.”

Alice leans down to kiss her forehead. “Not with the ones protecting you in the dark.”

Lucia giggles as I lean down, brushing her hair back and pressing my lips to her temple. Something I haven’t done in… too long.

“Sleep, stellina,” I murmur.

Alice smooths the blanket up to her chin, then walks to the door and holds it open for me. I glance back once more before stepping into the hallway .

She follows me out, pulling the door gently shut behind us.

And when I turn to her, I really look at her.

Not the woman who handles my children. Not the employee I shouldn’t be touching. Not even the threat I should be watching more closely.

Just… her .

Her full, dark-pink lips are flushed from storytime.

Her button nose twitches when she exhales, like she’s still catching her breath.

Her cheekbones are delicate and defined, and those eyes.

God, those eyes. A little too big to be perfectly proportionate, and yet they draw you in like a spotlight, soft and searching and… seeing.

Like she’s looking through you. Into you. And for one terrifying second, I want her to.

“You’re good with her,” I say, my voice low.

Her gaze flicks to the door, then back to me. “She’s a special little girl.”

“She hasn’t asked me to say a prayer with her in months.”

Alice smiles, soft and knowing. “Maybe she just needed to believe monsters can be scared off.”

I pause.

Then say, quieter, “Or maybe she needed to know that not all monsters are bad. That sometimes, they can be in your corner. Fighting your battles.”

Her breath hitches just slightly. Enough that I notice.

“Do you have a monster on your side?” I ask.

I don’t mean it to come out like that, low and rough and threaded with something dangerously close to jealousy .

But it does.

Her eyes lift to mine, wide and unreadable in the dim light of the hallway.

Then, just as I’m about to regret asking, she answers.

“Maybe,” she says. “I’m not entirely certain.”

The silence stretches between us, humming with something heavy.

And I don’t know if I want to kiss her or confess something or just stay in this moment, this impossible, fragile moment, where everything feels like it’s holding its breath.

But instead, I just stretch out my hand and trail my fingers over the apple of her cheek. Just for a second. Just enough to feel her warmth. Just enough to want more than I should.

She clears her throat, stepping back just an inch out of reach.

“Goodnight, Mr. Forzi.”

I nod. “Goodnight, Miss Winters.”

And as I turn and walk away, I know one thing for certain.

I’ve never wanted to be someone’s protective monster so badly in my life.