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

31. Alessandro

ALESSANDRO

I stand in the study, surrounded by my new life. This room is no longer an angry and empty space but has become a home for my transformation. Shelves that once might have held secrets now carry books on business strategies and framed photographs of Serafina and Leo.

The desk before me is cluttered—but with purpose. Contracts, blueprints, and proposals for legitimate ventures spread out in organized chaos. I understand it. I know where every piece fits into my plans. Every document represents a brick in the foundation of this new empire I'm building. One without the ugly underbelly of organized crime.

My phone vibrates. I glance at the screen to see the confirmation of the finalized deal for my new private security firm. It's official. My resources, once spent on fueling violence, will now provide protection—not power.

The study door creaks open, and I look up to see Serafina standing there. She's barefoot, wearing one of my shirts that falls loosely over her frame, her hair slightly tousled from sleep. She leans against the doorframe, watching me quietly. Two cups of coffee in her hands.

"You're up early," she says softly, a hint of sleep still in her voice.

I smile, setting the phone down. "Some habits are hard to break. But this time, it's different."

She comes, her bare feet making no sound on the polished floors. She hands me a coffee. Her eyes drift over the papers on the desk before meeting mine. "You're really doing it."

I get up and walk to where she's standing, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her close. "I'm doing something." I say, "And learning so many things; it's exciting to start fresh and do this my way—for us."

Her arms wind around my neck, and she rises onto her toes to kiss me—slow, lingering. "Whatever you're doing, I know it'll be a success."

I sit comfortably in one of the lounge chairs on the terrace, watching Leo race across the garden, his small legs carrying him in circles as he chases after his own shadow, giggling like it's the greatest game in the world. His laughter rings out, pure and untethered.

Serafina reclines beside me, her head resting on my shoulder, a book forgotten in her lap. Her eyes are on Leo, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

"He's happy," she whispers, more to herself than to me.

I watch him too, feeling something warm and steady settle in my chest. The kind of warmth I never thought I'd feel—a quiet joy that feels like it might last. "He should be. He deserves this."

But in the back of my mind, the darker memories linger—the look in his eyes when he saw me kill a man. The weight of what he's already witnessed. Happiness isn't guaranteed. It's something you fight for.

She shifts slightly, turning to face me more fully. "And you? Are you happy?"

I consider her question. It's not an easy one. The man I was before wouldn't have known how to answer. But now, watching my son run free, Serafina's hand warm in mine, I know the answer.

"Yes," I say softly. "But I want more. For him. For us."

Serafina tilts her head, looking at me. "What kind of more?"

I take a deep breath. "I don't know what it looks like yet. Something better. Bigger. Safe."

Her soft smile grows, her fingers lacing with mine. "You'll figure it out."

I raise an eyebrow. "Hmm. I suppose you have it all figured out, what you want?"

Her smile deepens, a little mischievous now. "I already have everything I want."

The sleek office building towers over the skyline, its glass facade reflecting the sharp sunlight. I stand in a corner office—my office—overlooking the streets below. The space is minimalist and modern, the walls lined with clean designs and bold, forward-thinking blueprints.

Enzo stands beside me, holding a leather folder, his posture as straight and rigid as ever. Yet even he looks different in this space, no longer the enforcer but a business partner. Equal, not someone who owes me a debt, or has to do what I say.

"The contracts are finalized. The security company is fully operational. No loose ends," he reports.

I take the folder, flipping through the pages. Every signature, every deal, is clean. Legal. Above board. No bribes, no making problems disappear—no unmarked graves in concrete slabs.

"Good," I murmur. "What is next?"

Enzo hesitates for a beat. "Your father?—"

I cut him off with a glance. "My father is the past. This is my legacy now."

For a moment, silence stretches between us, but Enzo nods, understanding. "He's dead, Alessandro. I got word this morning."

I pause, letting the words settle. "Who's taking over?"

Enzo's jaw tightens. "Carlo. He was loyal to Matteo to the end. But loyalty and competence aren't the same thing. The family's in disarray."

I turn back to the window, watching the cars weave through the streets below. The city is alive, and for the first time, I feel like I belong to it—not above it, not hidden in its shadows, but a part of it. "Let Carlo have it. Let them tear each other apart. I'm not going back."

Enzo's voice lowers. "With Matteo gone, there's going to be a power vacuum. The other families are already circling. You know what that means."

"I do," I reply quietly. "That's why the firm's first contracts went to families I trusted. It keeps them in check. They won't risk biting the hand that keeps their assets protected."

For a moment, silence stretches between us, but Enzo nods, understanding. "They're watching, Alessandro. Some think you're weak for leaving. Others think you're building something stronger."

I shrug. "Let them watch. I don't answer to them anymore."

Serafina is in the kitchen when I get home, moving around to her music as she finishes preparing dinner. The scene feels domestic, full of life—and perfect.

Leo sits at the table, coloring with fierce concentration. His tongue sticks out slightly as he presses a crayon to paper, completely absorbed.

I lean against the doorway, arms crossed, just watching them. This is everything I fought for. Everything I didn't know I needed until I nearly lost it.

Serafina senses me and turns, smiling. "Dinner's almost ready. Long day?"

I walk over, slipping my arms around her waist. "Long, but worth it." I say, "My father died." It just slips out.

She leans into me, resting her head against my chest. "Alessandro, I'm sorry." She stops what she's doing and comes to put her arms around me.

"Don't be sorry, I'm not. I'm glad he's gone." I'm honest with her.

I tilt her chin up, capturing her lips in a soft kiss—because I don't want to talk about it.

Leo's voice pipes up from the table. "Ew! You're kissing again! Yuck, what about cooties Dad? Girl cooties are baaaad." He pulls a face, he learns the strangest things at school—like cooties, and last week it was some bizarre fact about fish eating his skin off.

We laugh, breaking apart just enough to see his face still pulled up in disgust.

Serafina grins. "Better get used to it, kid. Shall I come give you some of my cooties?" She runs over to him, and he squeals.

And as laughter fills the room, I know we've built more than just a haven. We've built a home—a family.