Chapter 39 Nina
NINA
Walking out of the police station two hours later feels like stepping into an alternate reality.
My name is cleared. The detectives who dragged me away from the hospital are now apologizing for the inconvenience. The nightmare that’s haunted me for seven years is over.
Just like that.
I slide into the passenger seat of Alessio’s car, still numb with disbelief. He’s watching me with quiet concern, eyes soft with worry.
“You okay?”
I lean over and kiss him, slow and grateful. “Getting there. But I need to understand what just happened in there. Those detectives were ready to charge me with murder.”
He pulls away from the curb, weaving through downtown traffic. “You know Sheriff Dearborn’s whole political brand? Family values, integrity, the wholesome lawman who cleans up corruption?”
“Yeah. His campaign posters are still plastered all over town.”
“Turns out our upstanding sheriff has been maintaining two households. Wife and kids in the suburbs, girlfriend and baby across town. Two mortgages, two sets of responsibilities, twice the expenses.” Alessio’s voice carries that dangerous edge I’ve learned to recognize.
“Election’s next year. Wouldn’t look great for the family values candidate if that detail went public. ”
My stomach drops. “You blackmailed a sheriff?”
“I gave him options. Your freedom in exchange for my discretion about his personal life.” He shrugs like we’re discussing dinner plans. “He made the right choice.”
Seven years ago, I would have been horrified.
The Nina who panicked and buried a body would have been terrified of making more powerful enemies.
But that woman was still thinking like a victim, someone who expected the system to fail her.
This Nina knows her worth. This Nina has learned the difference between surviving and actually living.
“You scare me sometimes,” I tell him, but it’s not entirely a complaint. For the first time in my life, someone’s using their power to protect me instead of control me. I’m still learning how to trust that, but I want to try.
His free hand finds mine, thumb brushing across my knuckles. “I’ll always protect you and Austin. Both of you.”
Something in his voice tells me he means every single word.
“There’s something else you need to know.” I’ve been dreading this conversation, but secrets have no place between us anymore. “About who took Austin and me.”
The muscle in his jaw ticks. “Tell me.”
“It was Richie Newell. Eric’s brother.” The name tastes bitter. “He wanted answers about what happened to Eric. Apparently, he managed to get hold of Eric’s phone records and saw that we’d been in contact the night Eric died.”
“He was willing to hurt a six-year-old to get information?”
“He would have done worse if you hadn’t found us.” I shudder at the memory. “Richie was always unhinged, but at least Eric used to rein him in.”
“That fucker. Are you worried he’ll try again?”
“Maybe. But if he does, he’ll find out I’m not the same person he’s been dealing with.”
Alessio’s smile is sharp and predatory. “Don’t waste energy worrying about Richie Newell. I’ll handle him.”
The vow settles deep in my bones. For the first time in my adult life, I’m not carrying the weight of the world by myself.
We arrive at the hospital just as Austin’s surgical team is finishing up. Dr. Murphy meets us in the hallway, exhaustion and satisfaction written across her face in equal measure.
“The procedure went perfectly,” she tells us, peeling off her surgical cap. “The valve repair was textbook. Recovery should be smooth, and he’ll be able to live a completely normal life.”
Relief floods through me so suddenly my knees wobble, and Alessio’s arm slides around my waist, steady and sure. All those sleepless nights, all the fear and medical bills and desperate choices, have led to this moment.
My son is going to be okay.
They wheel Austin back to his room forty minutes later. He’s groggy from anesthesia but alert enough to squeeze my hand when I take his. His hair is mussed, and there are shadows under his eyes, but his color is better than it’s been in months.
“Hey, tough guy.” I smooth his hair back from his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” he mumbles, but his grip on my fingers is surprisingly strong. “Did they really fix my heart?”
“They sure did, sweetheart. Good as new.”
He nods, processing this, then turns to look at Alessio standing quietly beside the bed. “Dad?”
The word hangs in the air between us. Alessio’s face transforms, going soft in a way I’ve never seen before.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“I’m glad you’re my dad.”
“Best job I’ve ever had, bambino,” Alessio’s voice catches slightly on the words.
Austin’s eyes drift closed, his breathing evening out into the deep rhythm of healing sleep. We stand there in the dim hospital room, watching our son’s chest rise and fall with perfect regularity.
When Alessio finally looks at me, something fundamental has shifted in his expression. Something that looks like forever.
“I love you, Nina.” His voice is rough with emotion.
I study this man who saved my son’s life, who cleared my name, who gave us both a future we never dared imagine. The mafia capo who makes me coffee in the morning and reads bedtime stories at night. The dangerous man who holds my broken pieces like they’re precious.
“I love you, too.” The words feel inadequate for everything he means to me.
“You gave me back my ability to hope, to trust, to believe I deserve good things. You gave Austin a father who will never abandon him and me a partner who sees my strength instead of my scars. You saved us in every way that matters.”
He reaches across our sleeping son to take my other hand, his fingers warm and certain around mine. In the quiet of the hospital room, with Austin breathing steadily between us and machines beeping their reassuring rhythm, it feels like the beginning of something unbreakable.
I’ve always known some things are worth fighting for—Austin proved that to me every day. But I never believed I was worth someone else’s fight. Now I know better. Some people are worth trusting with your whole heart.
And sometimes, if you’re very lucky, they fight just as hard to keep you.