Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Kristen
I've never witnessed Lily so happy before. Pure, unfiltered joy radiates from every part of her tiny body as she crouches beside the rabbit hutch, fingers pressed against the wire mesh.
"Mommy, look," she breathes, like she's afraid speaking too loud will make them disappear. "They're real."
I focus on this memory. I'm filing this one away forever.
"Sir Floppington the Fourth needs a bigger crown than the other one," Lily announces with complete seriousness. "Because he's royalty."
Vittoria laughs, crouching down beside her. "Obviously. We can't have the nobility looking common."
I steal a glance at Nico. He stands slightly apart from us, arms crossed over his chest, expression carefully neutral. But there's something in the set of his jaw. Something almost... nervous?
No. Nico Sartori doesn't do nervous.
Except he keeps shifting his weight. And his fingers are tapping against his bicep in that rhythm I've started recognizing as his tell.
He's waiting to see if he got this right.
He's standing here watching a four-year-old's reaction like his next breath depends on it.
I force my attention back to Lily before my thoughts spiral somewhere dangerous.
"Can I pet them a little more?" Lily asks, practically bouncing.
"Tomorrow," Vittoria says. "They need to settle in first. But—" She pauses dramatically, and Lily's head whips toward her. "The surprise isn't over yet."
Lily's mouth drops open. "There's more?"
"Back in your room." Vittoria grins. "Want to see?"
My daughter doesn't wait for permission. She scrambles to her feet and takes off running toward the house, her sneakers slapping against the stone pathway.
"Lily, wait!" I call out, but she's already halfway there.
"Slow down, principessa," Vittoria calls after her, laughing. "We're coming too!"
Lily skids to a stop near the garden entrance, practically vibrating with impatience. "Hurry up!"
I start walking, but my feet feel strange beneath me. Heavy. Like my body knows something my brain hasn't caught up to yet.
A small thing for him. That's what this is. Probably took him five minutes to arrange. A phone call, maybe two.
But for Lily...
Vittoria links her arm through mine as we walk. "She's adorable," she murmurs. "I hope you know that."
"She's a handful," I manage.
"The best ones always are."
I don't look back at Nico. I can feel him behind us, though. That awareness I've developed for his presence, like my body has tuned itself to his frequency without my permission.
We enter through the kitchen, following Lily's excited chatter echoing down the hallway. She's stopped outside her bedroom door, hopping from foot to foot.
"Can I open it? Can I? Please?"
"Go ahead," Vittoria says.
Lily throws open the door and freezes.
I peer around her small frame, and my breath catches.
The room has been transformed. Where there was a single four-poster bed, there's now a canopy draped with soft pink fabric that catches the light like cotton candy clouds.
A small bookshelf sits in the corner, filled with picture books.
A plush reading chair sized perfectly for a child. And on the bed—
"Bunnies!" Lily screams.
She launches herself onto the mattress, grabbing armfuls of stuffed rabbits. There must be a dozen of them. Different sizes, different colors, different expressions. A whole army of fluff.
"This one matches Sir Floppington!" She holds up a gray rabbit with floppy ears. "And this one can be his queen!"
My vision blurs. I blink rapidly, trying to hold it together.
Vittoria squeezes my arm. "I'll let you have a moment," she whispers, then slips away.
I stand in the doorway, watching my daughter roll around on a bed that probably costs more than our entire apartment, surrounded by more toys than she's ever owned combined. She's laughing.
A presence materializes beside me. I don't need to look to know who it is.
"Is it too much?" Nico's voice is low. Uncertain in a way I've never heard from him.
I shake my head because words won't come.
He did this.
Not because he had to. Not because anyone asked.
Because he saw a little girl who had nothing and decided she should have something.
My fingers find his hand without conscious thought. I squeeze once. That's all I can manage.
His thumb brushes across my knuckles. Brief. Almost imperceptible.
But it says everything neither of us can speak out loud.
The warmth spreading through my chest turns cold.
Wait.
I watch Lily arrange her new stuffed rabbits into what she's calling a "royal court," complete with hierarchy and elaborate backstories she's inventing on the spot.
This isn't our room. This isn't our house. This isn't our life.
We're guests here. Temporary. Protected until the Bratva situation resolves and Jack's custody threat disappears. Then what? We go back to our cramped apartment with the broken elevator and the temperamental toaster, and Lily has to leave behind...
All of this.
The rabbits. The books. The reading chair that's sized perfectly for her small frame. The canopy that makes her feel like she's sleeping in a fairy tale.
I pull my hand away from Nico's.
"Lily, baby," I say, keeping my voice light. "Keep playing. Mommy needs to talk to Nico for a minute."
She doesn't even look up. "Okay. Sir Floppington is about to knight Princess Bun-Bun anyway."
I step into the hallway, and Nico follows. His presence fills the narrow space, making me acutely aware of how close he stands.
"What's wrong?" His voice is low. Controlled.
I glance back at the doorway, making sure Lily can't hear. When I speak, the words come out barely above a whisper.
"This is too much."
His jaw tightens. "She needed—"
"I know what she needed." I cut him off, keeping my voice hushed. "But Nico, we're not going to live here forever. This isn't our home. What happens when we leave and she has to give all of this back?"
"If there comes a day you want out," he says slowly, closing his eyes like he's in pain forming words, "everything in that room goes with you. The furniture. The books. Every single stuffed rabbit. It's hers."
Relief washes through me. Brief. Incomplete.
Because that's not the only problem.
"I already owe you a hundred and forty thousand dollars." The number tastes bitter on my tongue. "And now this? Nico, I can't—" I shake my head, frustration building in my chest. "I can't keep taking from you. It's not right."
His expression goes serious. Not angry.
"Kristen." My name sounds different when he says it. "I wanted to give Lily a gift. That's all this is."
"But—"
"It's for her." He steps closer, and suddenly there's barely any air between us. "It has nothing to do with the debt. Nothing to do with you paying anything back. I saw a kid who deserved something good, and I made it happen."
My throat tightens. "You can't just—"
"I can." His voice drops even lower. "And I did."
I stare at him, searching for the catch. The angle. The manipulation hiding beneath the surface.
There's always an angle.
Jack taught me that. Every gift came with strings. Every kindness was leverage for later. Every moment of generosity was a weapon he'd eventually use against me.
You're so ungrateful. After everything I've done for you.
But Nico isn't looking at me like Jack used to. There's no smugness. No calculation. Just... frustration. Like he genuinely doesn't understand why this is complicated.
"In my world," he continues, "you take care of the people under your protection. That's not debt. That's not transaction. It's just..." He pauses, searching for words. "It's what you do."
"I'm not in your world."
"You are now."
"She's going to get attached," I whisper. "To all of this. To... you."
His dark eyes hold mine. "Is that a problem?"
Yes. No. I don't know anymore.
"What happens when this ends?" I ask. "When Jack's handled and the Russians are gone and there's no reason for us to stay?"
Silence stretches between us. Thick and loaded with everything neither of us is saying.
Finally, Nico speaks.. Simple. Direct.
"Stay anyway."
My heart stutters.
"Nico—"
"Mommy!" Lily's voice cuts through the moment. "Princess Bun-Bun wants to meet the real rabbits! Can we go back to the garden? Please?"
I take a breath. Then another.
"In a minute, baby."
I look at Nico. At the intensity in his expression. At the way his fingers flex at his sides like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for me.
Stay anyway.
Like it's that simple. Like I can just choose to belong somewhere after years of being reminded I didn't belong anywhere.
"We'll talk about this later," I say quietly.
His jaw works. "We will."
It's not a question. It's a promise.
And somehow, that terrifies me more than anything else.
Nico
Kristen and Lily disappear.
Stay anyway.
Did I really say that? Out loud? To another human being?
"So?" Vittoria appears beside me like she materialized from thin air. One of these days, I'm going to put a bell on her. "Did she like it?"
I turn away from the window. "She liked it."
Vittoria's eyes narrow, studying my face like I'm a particularly confusing line of code. "And?"
"And I'm thanking you." The words feel strange in my mouth. Foreign. "For helping set it up."
Vittoria's hand flies to my forehead before I can react, her palm pressing against my skin. I jerk back.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Checking for a fever." Her eyes go wide with exaggerated shock. "Holy shit. Nico Sartori is thanking people. What's next? Are you going to start hugging strangers? Volunteering at soup kitchens?"
"Vittoria—"
"No, no, this is important. I need to document this moment." She pulls out her phone, and I swat it away from my face. "The family needs to know. Lorenzo's going to lose his mind. Pietro might actually smile."
"You're hilarious."
"I know." She grins, tucking her phone back in her pocket. "Love did this, didn't it? Turned my cold, calculating brother into someone who says thank you without being waterboarded first."
My jaw clenches. "I'm not—"
"You are." She waves her hand dismissively. "It's fine. It's good, actually. Maybe we should find someone for Bruno too. Get him to soften up. Become a little puppy like you."
"Don't."
She doesn't stop. Of course she doesn't stop. She's Vittoria.
"We could post an ad online," she continues, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
"'Wanted: Woman who doesn't mind being yelled at constantly and has no problem with wheelchairs.
Must enjoy brooding and have excellent tolerance for emotional unavailability.
Benefits include living in a mansion and never knowing if today's the day he finally snaps. '"
The anger hits like a match striking. Hot. Immediate.
"Enough."
My voice comes out low.
Vittoria's grin falters. Good.
"Bruno is not a joke," I say, each word precise.
Controlled. "He's not some problem for you to solve with your clever little quips.
He lost everything. His legs. His position.
His fucking future. And you stand there making jokes about advertising for someone to—what? Fix him? Like he's broken furniture?"
Vittoria's face shifts. The teasing light in her eyes dims.
"He's our brother," I continue. "Not a charity case. Not entertainment. So maybe think about that before you open your mouth again."
Silence stretches between us. I can hear the grandfather clock ticking in the hallway. My own pulse pounding in my ears.
Then Vittoria does something unexpected.
She laughs.
Not her usual bright, deflecting laugh. Something softer. Almost sad.
"There he is," she says quietly. "The asshole I know and love."
I blink. "What?"
"You've been so... different lately." She gestures vaguely at me. "Softer. More human. I almost forgot you had teeth." Her smile turns genuine. "It's good to know they're still there."
I don't know what to do with that. So I say nothing.
Vittoria steps closer, and this time when she touches me, it's gentle. Her hand on my arm. Her dark eyes meeting mine with an intensity that reminds me too much of our father.
"I'm sorry," she says. "About Bruno. That was cruel. I make jokes when I don't know what else to do, and I..." She swallows. "I don't know how to help him. None of us do. And it's easier to laugh than to admit that."
The anger drains out of me. Leaves something hollow in its place.
"I know."
"But Nico?" She squeezes my arm. "I'm grateful. For what you did. For Kristen and Lily. For making this place feel less like a fortress and more like... I don't know. A home, maybe."
I look away. The window again. The garden where Kristen kneels beside the rabbit hutch, Lily pressed against her side.
"You're still an asshole," Vittoria adds. "Just so we're clear. A grade-A, premium, top-shelf asshole."
"Thank you for that clarification."
"But you're a good man too." Her voice softens. "I forget that sometimes. We all do. Even you, I think."
Something catches in my throat. I don't acknowledge it.
"Go bother someone else," I say. "I have work to do."
Vittoria snorts. "Sure you do." She releases my arm, already heading for the door. "Say hi to your work for me. I'm sure she's very pretty."
She's gone before I can respond.
I stand at the window for a long moment. Watching Kristen show Lily how to hold the rabbit properly. Watching my sister's words echo in the empty room.
A good man.
I've never been called that before. Not by anyone who knew what I actually do. Who I actually am.
Kristen looks up suddenly, like she can feel me watching. Our eyes meet through the glass. She smiles.
And for one terrifying second, I almost believe Vittoria might be right.