Chapter 28 Isabella
I don't sleep. Can't sleep. I just lie in Lupo's arms watching the darkness fade to gray, memorizing the feel of him beside me. His heartbeat under my palm. The rise and fall of his chest. The warmth of his skin. The weight of his arm around my waist.
All the small things I'll have to survive without.
When the first light creeps through the window, I feel him stir. His hand tightens on my hip, pulling me closer for just a moment. Like he's not ready to let go either.
"We should get up," he murmurs against my hair. "Elena will be awake soon."
I nod but don't move. Can't make myself leave the safety of his arms yet.
"Isabella." His voice is gentle. "We have to tell her."
"I know." My throat is tight. "I just need another minute."
He gives me five. Five more minutes of pretending that this is just another morning. That he's not leaving. That our family isn't about to be ripped apart.
Then Elena's voice carries from her room, bright and happy, singing to herself, and the moment shatters.
I pull away from Lupo, immediately cold without his warmth. I grab my nightgown from the floor, pull it on. "I'll get her. You should—"
"I'll make breakfast." He's already up, reaching for his clothes. "The usual?"
"Yes. Thank you."
We move around each other carefully, not touching, both of us trying to hold ourselves together. Then he leaves and I'm alone, staring at the rumpled bed that still smells like us.
This is really happening.
I force myself to move. Go to Elena's room. She's already out of bed, pulling on her pants backwards, but she's trying. When she sees me, she grins.
"Mama! I'm getting dressed all by myself!"
"I can see that, baby. You're doing such a good job." I kneel beside her. "But your pants are on backwards. Let's fix them."
"Oh." She giggles and lets me help her turn them around. "Is Daddy making eggs?"
"Yes, baby. He's making eggs."
"I'm so hungry I could eat a whole chicken!" She giggles at her own joke, the same one she tells every morning.
I help her finish dressing in a yellow shirt, her favorite overalls. She tries to braid her own hair but gets tangled, so I take over, my fingers working automatically while my mind races ahead to what comes next.
"Mama, can we go to the market today?"
"Not today, sweetheart."
"Tomorrow?"
"Maybe. We'll see."
I finish her braid and she runs toward the kitchen, calling for Lupo. I follow more slowly, dreading what comes next.
Lupo's at the stove, scrambling eggs, and the scene is so painfully normal that I have to look away.
"Daddy!" Elena runs to him, wrapping her arms around his leg. "You're making my eggs!"
He sets down the spatula and crouches down to her level, pulling her into a hug. I watch his face, the way his expression softens when he looks at her, the way his eyes close for just a moment like he's memorizing this too.
"Of course, I am. I promised, didn't I?"
"Let's eat," I say, my voice too bright. "Come sit down, Elena."
Lupo plates the eggs and we sit at the table—this little family we've built—and for a moment, nobody speaks.
Elena digs into her eggs happily, swinging her legs under the chair, humming to herself. Lupo and I just look at each other across the table, both of us trying to figure out how to do this.
How to break her heart.
"Elena," Lupo says finally. "Your mama and I need to tell you something."
She looks up, fork halfway to her mouth. "What?"
"I have to go away for a little while. For work."
Her face falls immediately. The fork clatters onto her plate. "You're leaving?"
"Just for a little while," I interject quickly. "He has a job he needs to do. But he'll come back."
"When?"
Lupo and I exchange a glance. "I don't know exactly, sweetheart. But as soon as I can."
"How long is a little while?" Her voice is getting smaller. "Like when Mama goes to the market?"
"A bit longer than that," Lupo says gently.
"A week?" Her eyes are starting to fill with tears.
"Maybe longer. I'm not sure yet."
"But that's so long!" Her lower lip trembles. "Why do you have to go?"
"This is very important work," Lupo says, his voice steady but I can see the pain in his eyes. "Work that I have to do. But I promise I'll think about you every single day."
"But I don't want you to go!" Elena's voice breaks and the tears spill over. "You're my daddy! You just got here!"
The words destroy me. Destroy both of us.
Lupo stands and comes around the table, crouching beside her chair. "Elena, look at me."
She turns to him, tears streaming down her face.
"I don't want to leave," he says quietly. "Not even for a day. You and your mama are the most important people in the whole world to me. Do you understand that?"
She nods, sniffling.
"But sometimes grown-ups have to do things they don't want to do. Hard things. Because those things help keep the people they love safe." He wipes her tears with his thumb. "That's what I'm doing. I'm going away so I can make sure you and Mama stay safe. So that nobody can hurt you."
"Who would hurt us?"
"Nobody. Not while I'm around. That's why I have to do this work."
She thinks about this, her little mind working through the logic. "So you're going away to protect us?"
"Yes. Exactly."
"Like a superhero?"
Despite everything, Lupo smiles slightly. "Something like that."
"When do you have to go?"
He glances at me, then back to her. "Maybe today. Or very soon."
"Today?" Her voice rises in panic. "But that's—that's right now!"
"I know. I'm sorry."
"But we didn't—we didn't get to do anything special! You can't go today!" She's crying harder now, her breath hitching. "You can't! Daddy, don’t go!"
"Elena, baby." I reach for her hand but she pulls away.
"No! He can't go! He has to stay!" She looks at Lupo desperately. "Please don't go, Daddy. Please stay."
Lupo pulls her into his arms, holding her tight while she sobs against his shoulder. His eyes are closed, his jaw clenched, and I can see him fighting to keep his composure.
"I have to, baby. I'm so sorry."
"But when you come back," she says between sobs, "when you come back, can we have a picnic? Under the big tree? And you can tell me stories?"
"Yes." His voice is rough. "When I come back, we'll have the best picnic ever. I promise."
"And you'll teach me to whistle?"
"I'll teach you to whistle."
"And we can pick olives together?"
"Yes. All of it. Everything you want." He pulls back to look at her, cupping her face in his hands. "Make a list and we’ll do all the things you want. But you have to be good for your mama while I'm gone. Can you do that? Can you be strong for your Mama?"
She nods, still crying. "I'll be so good. The best ever."
"I know you will." He kisses her forehead, then pulls her close again.
I watch them together and feel something cracking inside my chest. This man—this dangerous, violent man—is holding my daughter like she's made of glass. And she trusts him completely.
What have I done?
I've let her love him. Let her believe he's her father. Let her build her whole world around someone who might never come back.
And I've done the same thing to myself.
After a few minutes, Elena's sobs quiet to sniffles. Lupo sets her back in her chair gently.
"Finish your breakfast, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?"
She nods but doesn't pick up her fork. Just stares at her plate, tears still running down her cheeks.
Lupo stands and looks at me. "I need to make the call."
"Okay."
We step outside together, into the morning sun. The yard looks the same as always—the barn, the chicken coop, the olive trees. Nothing has changed, but yet everything has changed.
"I'm calling Ciro now," he says. "He said he was staying nearby. It probably won't take long for them to get here."
"How long?"
"An hour. Maybe less." He runs his hand through his hair. "I should pack. Get ready."
"You don't have anything to pack." The words come out flat. "You came here with nothing. You'll leave with nothing."
"Isabella—"
"I'll get you some food. For the drive." I turn toward the house. "That's all I can do."
"Isabella, please—"
I stop but don't turn around. "Make your call, Lupo. I need to go comfort my daughter."
I walk back inside, leaving him standing in the yard.
Elena is still sitting at the table, pushing her eggs around her plate. When she sees me, her face crumples again.
"Mama, I don't want him to go."
"I know, baby. I don't either." I sit beside her and pull her into my lap. She's getting so big—three and a half years old already. Soon she won't fit in my lap anymore. "But sometimes we have to be brave, even when things are hard."
"I don't want to be brave. I just want Daddy to stay."
"Me too, baby. Me too."
She cries against my shoulder and I let her, stroking her hair, whispering soothing nonsense. Through the window, I can see Lupo pacing in the yard, his phone to his ear.
He's talking to Ciro. Making it official. Arranging his return to Naples. To his old life. To violence and power and everything that might take him away from us permanently.
After a few minutes, he comes back inside. His face is grim. "They'll be here in forty-five minutes."
Forty-five minutes. That's all we have left.
"Okay." I stand, still holding Elena. "I'll make you some food to take."
"You don't have to—"
"I'm making you food." My voice is sharp. "Let me do this one thing."
He nods and reaches for Elena. "Come here. Come sit with me."
She goes to him willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. He carries her to the living room and sits on the old sofa, settling her in his lap. She curls against his chest, her thumb in her mouth. Something she only does when she's very upset.
I go to the kitchen and start moving mechanically. Bread, cheese, some of the dried figs. I wrap it all in a cloth, my hands shaking.
This is really happening. In less than an hour, he'll be gone.
I make coffee. Strong and black, the way he likes it. Pour it into a thermos for his trip. Add the food bundle to a small bag.