Mafia Heir’s Broken Vows (Rosewood Hall Broken Vows)

18. Alessandro

ALESSANDRO

O ne call. That's all it would take. One call to end this—to send Serafina and Leo far away from here. Far from me. She already wants to leave; being here is making her miserable and scared. I'm being selfish. I am only thinking about what I want, and not what is best for Serafina and Leo. Living in a cage, constantly fearing for her life, I can't ask her to do that.

I dial the number.

"It's Alessandro. I need a plane. Tonight. No questions." I make a request. "The airstrip, hangar three. I will send a driver with my passengers."

There's a pause on the other end before the voice speaks. "Are you sure about this?"

I grit my teeth. "Where are they going?"

"California, at least the manifest will say that. I'd like them to land in Sicily. I have made arrangements there for them." I wait for an answer.

"The flight plan is logged for your passengers to fly to California, sir," he says. "Please ensure they pack light to allow for the extra fuel weight needed for the trip." His tone is professional, but there's a hint of something beneath it. Pity, maybe. Sympathy. I hate it.

"Thank you."

I end the call and stare at the city lights beyond the rain-streaked glass. Each raindrop feels like a nail hammered into my chest. How do you tell the woman you love that you're sending her away—abandoning her again?

I'm setting her free. That's what I tell myself. But deep down, I know I'm the one breaking her all over again.

Serafina stands by the fireplace, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She turns slowly when I enter, her eyes red and swollen—she's been crying. The sight of her like this twists something deep inside me, guilt mingling with regret.

"What is it now?" she asks, her voice tight and hollow. She turns her face away, quickly wiping at her tears. She doesn't want me to see her break.

I take a steadying breath. The words feel heavier than any confession I've ever made. "You and Leo need to leave." I can't believe I'm saying it. It hurts just to look at her, to watch her fall apart in front of me.

Her head snaps toward me, disbelief written all over her face. "What?" She sounds shocked, her voice trembling. "You changed your mind?"

"I've arranged everything. You'll be safe—far from Marco, far from all of this." I pause, trying to soften the blow, but the words sound cold and hollow. "I will make sure you're cared for. You don't have to worry about money." She glares at me, the fire in her eyes returning. "He's still my son, Serafina. I will provide for him." The words sound hollow, even to me.

Her face hardens, and the hurt in her expression is quickly replaced by anger. "And you?" she asks, her voice sharp as a blade.

I hesitate… the truth lodged in my throat. "I'm staying here. I'm not the one who wanted to leave."

The silence between us stretches, suffocating. Then her voice rises, sharp and cutting, slicing through the quiet like a whip.

"So, you're abandoning me again?"

"It's not like that?—"

"Then explain it to me!" Her voice cracks, the pain in her words impossible to ignore. "Explain how you don't have a choice." She rolls her eyes, shaking her head like she's already heard every excuse I could offer.

I swallow hard, my throat tight. I can't even look at her when I answer. "You said you wanted to leave, Serafina. Because if you stay, Marco will find a way to use you against me. And I can't let that happen. I'm not abandoning you. I'm letting you go. I'm giving you and Leo the freedom you deserve." I try to sound resolute, but my voice wavers. It feels like I'm bleeding out with every word.

Tears well in her eyes, glistening like shards of glass, but she blinks them away before they can fall. "Fine," she snaps, the word laced with bitterness.

I reach for her, desperate to close the chasm between us, but she pulls back sharply like my touch burns her.

"I'm doing this for you. For Leo," I say, my voice breaking on his name. I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

She stares at me, her expression unreadable for a moment before she whispers, "No." Her voice is soft, but the weight of the word crushes me. "You're doing this because it's easier than fighting for us."

The car is waiting outside, its engine idling in the rain, the low hum a relentless reminder of what's about to happen. The air feels heavy, and thick with the kind of tension that makes it hard to draw a full breath. The house behind me already feels emptier, and quieter, like it knows what's being taken from it.

Serafina stands by the front door, holding Leo close. Her arms wrap protectively around him, her face turned slightly away, but I can see it—her eyes are distant, cold, yet brimming with unshed tears. Tears she's fighting to keep hidden.

"Please don't do this," she says quietly, her voice barely audible over the rain.

My chest tightens painfully. Every fiber of me is screaming to stop this, to pull them back inside where I know they'll be safe—but I can't. "You have to go. I need you to go," I say, my voice rough, catching on the words. This lie tastes bitter in my mouth. Why is she making this harder now? When I wanted her to stay, she said she wanted to go—that she couldn't raise her son with me.

Leo shifts in her arms, tugging at her sleeve. She presses a kiss to his head, murmuring something too soft for me to hear. The sight makes my gut twist like someone's driving a blade deeper with every second.

"Say goodbye to him, Alessandro." Her voice is steady, but the way her arms tighten around Leo tells me she's barely holding it together. She's doing this for him—shielding him from the weight of this moment, even as it breaks her.

My heart cracks in two as I crouch down, my hand trembling as I brush a curl from Leo's forehead. His small, sleepy face tilts toward me, innocent and oblivious to the storm tearing me apart inside. He doesn't know the truth. He doesn't know I'm his father, or how much I love him, or that letting him go feels like I’m being gutted alive.

"Be brave for Mommy, okay?" My voice breaks, the words catching in my throat. "I'll see you soon." It's a lie. A desperate, selfish lie that tastes like ash. I don't know if I'll ever see them again, and maybe it's better if I don't. But I can't stop myself from saying it.

Leo blinks up at me sleepily, his tiny hand clutching Serafina's shirt as he snuggles closer to her. The ache in my chest deepens, raw and unrelenting as if my ribs are being crushed. Serafina watches me, her eyes shimmering, her lips trembling as she fights to hold herself together.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she murmurs, her voice sharp enough to draw blood. "He will hate you for it one day." Her words hit their mark, but I deserve every one of them. And I hate myself more than anyone else ever could.

The driver steps forward, opening the car door. Serafina hesitates— her feet rooted to the ground for a moment too long. Then, without looking at me, she whispers, "Goodbye, Alessandro." Her voice is hollow, barely more than a breath. But it lands like the final nail in a coffin.

She helps Leo into the car, her movements mechanical, and deliberate. Then she ducks inside, shutting the door behind her. The dark, blacked-out windows swallow them from my view, leaving nothing but their absence behind.

I stand frozen in the rain as the car disappears into the night, its taillights vanishing like embers fading into darkness. The rain soaks through my clothes, chilling me to the bone, but the cold outside is nothing compared to the emptiness spreading inside me. My whole body shakes, the weight of this decision pressing down on me until I can barely stand.

I don't go back inside until the rain feels like it's washing me away. But even when I do, the house feels like a tomb—silent and lifeless, filled with memories that haunt me. I've done what I thought was right, but it feels like the worst mistake of my life.

The house is silent.

A hollow, suffocating silence. Empty, like a tomb holding nothing but memories. The kind of silence that doesn't just fill a space—it eats it alive.

I lean against the doorframe, the cold seeping into my bones, spreading through my chest like poison. Every creak of the floorboards beneath my feet feels like a ghost—echoes of what this house once held. Laughter. Life. Them. This is the price of keeping them safe. The silence, the emptiness, the way my footsteps echo through rooms that once held joy. It feels like a punishment, self-imposed but still cruel. Like I've paid too much, sacrificed more than any man should bear—and yet, it's never enough.

I can't shake the echo of Serafina's words, each syllable a knife twisting deeper.

You're doing this because it's easier than fighting for us.

My fists clench at my sides until my knuckles turn white, nails biting into my palms. The pain is grounding, but it doesn't numb the deeper ache. I should have fought—at least tried. Should have shown her that some things are worth bleeding for. That she and Leo were worth everything.

But instead, I let them walk away.

Marco will think he's won, probably toasting his victory in some dim-lit room, his smirk dripping with the satisfaction of knowing he's unraveled me. He doesn't know what he's started. But this isn't over. Not while I still draw breath. Not while I have the strength to destroy him.

I push off the doorframe, my jaw tight and my resolve sharper than ever. If Marco wants a war, I'll give him one. And I'll turn his world into ash. He may have stolen them from me, but I'll make sure he doesn't live long enough to enjoy the fruits of his victory.