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

28. Serafina

SERAFINA

T he low hum of the jet's engines fills the cabin, steady and unrelenting. It's a sound I've never liked. It's too final. Too much like a door closing behind me. I glance at Alessandro, his broad shoulders leaning slightly as he stares out the window. His expression is calm, resolute—the look of a man who has made his peace with what's behind him.

I wish I could say the same.

My gaze drifts to Leo. He's singing softly to himself as he colors, utterly unaware of the gravity of what we're doing. His innocence is a gift, but it's one I don't take lightly. Leaving the city, leaving everything, was for him. To give him a life where he'll never know the weight of what I've lived through. Yet my chest tightens at the thought of everything I've left behind.

My business. My independence. The life I built with my own hands after Leo was born. It wasn't perfect—God knows there were cracks I tried to ignore—but it was mine. It was my proof that I could survive. That I could thrive, even with the odds stacked against me. Letting it go feels like giving up a part of myself. The part that fought to stand tall after everything was taken from me.

I curl my fingers into the armrest, trying to focus on the present. On the safety, Alessandro promises me. But doubt creeps in like a shadow, whispering questions I can't answer.

What if Marco's allies don't care that he's gone? What if they want revenge?

What if Matteo D'Angelo doesn't really let us go? Men like him don't just walk away. They don't let others walk away, either.

Alessandro said he's severed ties. That we're free. But my body doesn't believe it. Every muscle is taut, every nerve on edge, waiting for the shoe to drop. Freedom is a beautiful word, but it's one I don't trust yet.

My eyes burn, and I blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Crying won't change anything. It won't bring back the life I've left behind or silence the fears I can't shake. It won't guarantee that Leo's laughter will never be stolen from him.

"You're quiet." Alessandro's voice pulls me from my thoughts. I glance over to find his eyes on me, searching, concerned.

"Just… thinking," I reply, my voice softer than I intended. I try to smile, but it feels thin, forced. Alessandro reaches across the space between us, his hand warm as it covers mine.

"We're safe, Serafina." His voice is steady, as though willing me to believe it. "I've taken care of everything."

I want to believe him. I really do. But the scars I carry—both the ones you can see and the ones you can't—won't let me trust so easily.

"I know you have," I say, squeezing his hand. "It's just… hard to let go."

He nods, understanding in his eyes. "You're not letting go alone. I'm right here. And I'm not going anywhere."

His words settle something in me, if only for a moment. I lean into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand anchor me to the present. To this moment where, for now, we are safe. Where Leo's laughter fills the cabin, and Alessandro's presence reminds me that I'm not carrying this weight alone.

As the jet soars higher, breaking through the clouds, I take a deep breath. The city is gone, swallowed by the distance. And with it, I hope, the danger we left behind.

But the fear doesn't vanish. It lingers like a silent passenger on this journey. A reminder that freedom is never given easily.

Still, I grip Alessandro's hand tighter, holding on to the hope that, maybe, this time, it will be worth the fight.

The villa is unlike anything I imagined. Nestled among sprawling orchards and tall cypress trees, it feels like a hidden world, untouched by time. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below mingles with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It's beautiful in a way that doesn't seem real—like something out of a dream.

Leo bounds ahead of us; his excitement is palpable as he explores the gardens. He's already pointing out flowers and asking questions about the trees. His laughter rings out, pure and unrestrained, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I don't feel the need to hush him. Here, he can be loud. He can be free.

Alessandro stands beside me, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. "What do you think?" he asks, his voice low and cautious, as if afraid I might not like it.

I turn to him, taking in the way the sunlight catches in his dark hair, the way his eyes hold a glimmer of hope. "It's… perfect," I whisper, the word catching in my throat.

A small smile tugs at his lips, and he nods. "This is home now."

We step inside, the villa's rustic charm enveloping us. The stone floors are cool beneath my feet, and the warm, golden light streaming through the windows bathes everything in a soft glow. The air smells faintly of lavender and citrus, carried in from the orchards outside. It's nothing like the cold, impersonal mansions I remember from Alessandro's family. This place feels alive. Warm. Safe.

Leo darts past us, his little feet pattering against the floor as he explores every corner. Alessandro watches him with a softness I'm still getting used to. He's different here—lighter, freer. As if leaving the city has stripped away some of the weight he's carried for so long.

I move to the window, looking out at the endless expanse of blue water. The sea stretches out before us, vast and infinite. It feels like a promise—a new beginning. But beneath the surface, I can't shake the fear that it's all too good to be true.

Alessandro comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His warmth seeps into me, chasing away the lingering chill of uncertainty.

"We're safe here," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple.

I close my eyes, leaning into him. "I want to believe that."

He turns me gently, his hands cradling my face. "Then believe it. I'll make sure of it."

For the first time, I let myself hope. Maybe this is where we can finally stop running. Where we can finally breathe. Where we can finally be free.