Chapter 17 #2
‘We didn’t bring him earlier,’ Maddie says softly, walking back to the dining table. ‘Not until we knew the situation here was… manageable.’ Her gaze flicks to me, then to Giada. ‘But I thought it was time.’
Cesare is up so fast his chair scrapes, every muscle humming with territorial warning. Maddie ignores him, because she’s Maddie and the only one alive who can. She walks straight to Giada.
My chest tightens.
Giada looks like she’s been struck by sunlight – wide-eyed, breath caught, hands lifting on instinct before she can think to protest.
Maddie places Nico into her arms.
And fuck me gently with a crucifix, the sight almost levels me.
Giada holds him like she was born knowing how, careful, reverent, stunned. That soft gasp she makes? It hits somewhere deep and possessive in me.
Nico curls his tiny fist around her finger and Giada’s whole face goes soft around the edges, like something old in her recognises something older in him. ‘Ciao, beddu carusu… tu sì un picciriddu perfettu.’
‘Sì, he’s pure perfection. Your sister did good,’ Cesare intones proudly, then swoops in the second Nico lets out a tiny squeak. He plucks his kid from Giada with all the subtlety of a starving wolf grabbing back his kill.
Giada blinks, startled. Hurt for half a breath.
Maddie pats Cesare’s chest lightly. ‘Don’t mind him,’ she says with a grin, smoothing Nico’s curls. ‘He hardly lets anyone hold him. You got two whole minutes. That’s practically a miracle.’
Giada blushes.
Cesare softens, but only by half a millimetre, so it barely counts.
Maddie lets father and son bond for five minutes, then she reclaims her baby, shifting Nico to her shoulder.
I startle when I look up and see Sofiya next to me.
She watches me with a dark, fixed gaze that sends tingles up my spine before, reaching out, she touches Giada’s shoulder with a smile.
‘I’m off to put this one down for the night. Goodnight,’ Maddie says.
Dante stands next, leans in, and presses a kiss to Giada’s cheek. ‘Welcome to the family circus,’ he murmurs.
And I watch Giada absorb it all – the baby, the love, the chaos – with a dazed wonder that makes something vicious and tender twist in my ribcage.
Mine.
All fucking mine.
Rafa and Sofiya exchange one look that makes me roll my eyes.
The courtyard falls quiet.
Cesare folds his arms. ‘Haven’t had a chance to officially welcome you yet,’ he says with a smile that is softer than anyone expects from him. ‘To the family.’
Giada falters. ‘Thank you. But I… I don’t know how long I’ll be part of it. I still intend to return to the convent to complete my training.’
Cesare stares blankly. Then bursts out laughing.
She goes scarlet.
‘Sorry, cara,’ he gasps, wiping his eyes and lifting his cognac glass halfway to his lips. ‘But let me save you time and tell you, you can kiss that thought goodbye.’
She stiffens. ‘Why?’
Cesare’s expression evens out. His voice drops into that cool, commanding tone that makes entire cities kneel.
‘Because you belong to a Salvatore now. And Salvatores… don’t give back what’s theirs. Not to God, not to fate, not to ghosts.’
He tilts his head, eyes glinting. ‘You think you can hide behind walls again? No fucking chance. You’re one of us.’
Giada’s gaze flicks to me, shocked.
I shrug. ‘I’ve been telling you for weeks. Accept it.’
Her lips part.
Her breath catches.
And somewhere deep inside her, something shatters open.
* * *
Dinner breaks into smaller conversations.
Rafa and Sofiya murmur to each other but every now and then I catch my brother sizing Giada up with that stupid gleam in his eyes that makes me want to punch him again. It’s like he’s waiting for her to slip up, show that everything she’s said is a lie.
He ignores my ‘watch it’ glare as Giada excuses herself with a tight smile and a whisper-soft ‘I’m fine, truly.’
But I know that look.
That trembling in her fingers.
That glassiness around the eyes that means her mind is spinning like a runaway wheel.
I let her go.
For now.
I step out into the narrow courtyard walkway, needing a breath before I follow her, and immediately spot Cesare and Dante standing on the terrace, cigars glowing like tiny embers in the Sicilian dark.
My twin reaches into his pocket and hands me one when I approach.
I cup a hand around his lighter and take my first deeper, perfect inhale as Rafa joins us a minute later.
We stand there, four Salvatores staring into the night, the weight of our empire stretching out before us, dense and wordless as the inheritance in our blood.
Then Rafa exhales smoke through his nose. ‘We need to talk about the new weasel problem.’
Vittore.
The name flashes in my mind like a blade catching sun.
‘Sure,’ I say, casting a glance back in the living room, which is starkly without Giada. ‘Tomorrow.’ I’m already itching with her absence.
Fuck, I’m addicted, aren’t I? Jonesing for a hit of perfection.
I catch Cesare’s arched brow when I turn. ‘Tomorrow? Since when do you delay dealing with shit that can get us all killed? You’re usually the first to wanna play wackamole with idiots’ skulls.’
I tug my jacket straighter. ‘Since now.’
Rafa snorts. ‘What? Busy chasing pussy? And what the fuck is the story with you and my sister-in-law? All these years you never even so much as said her name.’
Fuck this. I turn again, walk away, flipping him off without slowing my stride. ‘All you need to know is I was the first Salvatore to cross that forbidden line. The rest of you just followed the smoke I left behind. So yeah, you’re not all the trailblazing pioneers you think you are.’
Cesare chuckles low. ‘Jesus fucking Christ. Enjoy the night while it lasts, little brother.’
I don’t bother answering.
I’m already hunting.
* * *
I’m not enjoying the night. At all.
The house is too quiet.
Too still.
Too echoing.
Then I feel it… the thing that woke me from a dreamless sleep. The space beside me is cold and my arms are empty. A pulse of panic like a heartbeat that doesn’t belong to me.
Giada’s fear threads the air as I leave the suite, moving fast, checking the hallway and the kitchen. The library.
Nothing.
Then I catch a whisper of movement down the seaside steps.
The faint slam of a door in the wind.
Fuck.
I break into a run.
* * *
Giada
The wind stings my eyes as I stumble down the stone steps leading towards the shore.
The sea’s roar calls to me – or maybe it’s the memory lodged behind my ribs.
I’m shaking.
No, it’s more than shaking. It’s splintering.
I reach the bottom landing, clutching the railing as a flash detonates through my skull.
White lilies tumbling across a church floor.
The smell of smoke.
A woman’s gasp.
A voice… Maddie’s voice I recognise now, shouting RUN.
Blood on my hands.
A hand grabbing my wrist – not Renzo’s – and a cruel voice whispering, ‘Look what you’ve done. You will burn in eternity for this.’
I drop to my knees as the world buckles sideways.
‘No… no…’ My breath tears out of me. ‘Please… please stop…’
But the flashes keep coming, tearing open the thin seams of whatever is left of me. I can’t breathe, can’t think straight.
I press my palms to my eyes hard enough to hurt. And when I open them… the waves are lapping close.
Too close.
Dark as ink and hungry.
Maybe I should walk in.
Just for a moment. Just to quiet everything. Let it wash me clean.
I stumble forward and my toes curl on the cold stone. I flinch, but I keep going. Not far, not far, not—
Behind me, a voice erupts through the air like thunder. ‘Giada!’
My whole body jolts.
* * *
Renzo
There she is!
Down by the shoreline, bent over like she’s holding her guts in with her bare hands, hair wild around her face, breath coming in sharp, broken sobs.
And she’s too close to the fucking water.
My heart claws through my ribs. What the fuck?
‘Giada!’
Her head jerks up and I see her eyes, huge, red-rimmed and terrified.
I slow only because if I reach her too fast, she might break in half.
Or throw herself in.
‘Angel…’ The word scrapes out of me.
She flinches. ‘Don’t call me that.’
‘What happened?’ I ask, stepping closer, palms open. ‘Talk to me.’
‘I remembered something,’ she whispers. ‘I remembered – her.’ Her voice trembles. ‘Isabella.’
My breath freezes.
‘I saw her,’ she sobs. ‘Alive. Before – I don’t know – before something happened. Before something terrible. I don’t know what I did. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know if I’m good or if I’m—’
‘Stop.’ My voice cracks like a whip.
She shakes her head wildly. ‘I can’t. I feel like a monster. I deserve… I deserve bad things, Renzo—’
I grab her shoulders, firm but careful. ‘You look at me.’
Her breath catches. She does.
‘You’re not a monster. And no, you fucking don’t.’ I’m not sure why laughter breaks out of me. ‘If we’re counting sins, I would be more deserving of those bad things. Believe me, everyone in this house behind me would win before you even came close to winning the monster trophy.’
‘You don’t know that—’
‘I do,’ I growl. ‘Because I know you. Even if you don’t remember yourself yet.
You’re goodness itself, ragazza.’ I laugh again and I hear the foot-thick manic beast within the sound.
‘You’re the clever girl who wanted to meet in a church on our first date.
I’m the bastard who agreed just so I could corrupt and defile you. ’
Her lip trembles, and that single movement nearly floors me.
‘That night,’ she whispers, ‘was I the one… Did I… did I kill your mother?’
The question guts me but I don’t look away.
I raise one hand, tracing my thumb along her temple. ‘Only you can tell me that. But not yet. Not tonight. Not like this.’
Her breath leaves her in a crushed sound. ‘I’m scared.’
‘I know,’ I say. ‘But you’re not doing this alone, Giada.’
She looks at me in a way that makes my chest ache. ‘Why – why are you being so gentle with me?’
I swallow, jaw tight.
‘Because you’re it for me, baby. You always have been, always will be.’
The words fall out like a confession ripped from bone.
Her eyes widen. Then she collapses forward into me, her fists gripping my shirt, her face pressed to my chest like she’s trying to burrow straight into me.
I hold her.
Hard.
Like I could anchor her to this world by force alone.
She sobs once – just once – then her hands slide up my jaw, her mouth finding mine in a kiss so desperate I taste salt.
‘Tell me what you need, baby,’ I murmur against her lips.
Her voice breaks. ‘I need you.’
Those three words. Spoken like a vow. Spoken like salvation we both need.
Before I can breathe, she swings her leg around me, straddling my thigh, kissing me like she’s drowning and I’m the only air left.
My back hits the stone wall behind us, and she whimpers when I drag her hips against mine.
‘You sure?’ I grit, voice ragged.
‘Yes.’
Her lips bruise mine. ‘I want to forget.’
Her breath shivers.
‘I want you. You make everything better, Renzo. Please make it better.’
That’s all I need.
I lift her, my stronger arm under her thighs, her nightie bunching up around her hips. She whimpers before her legs wrap around me, pulling me tight, tight enough to feel the heat of her through both our clothes.
Her mouth is everywhere, my jaw, throat, shoulder, and I swear I go blind for a second with the force of my need for this breathtaking woman. With the force of my feelings.
I press her to the ancient stone wall, kiss her until she moans, until her nails dig into my neck.
Her body arches, desperate. Her voice is a whisper and a cry all at once. ‘Renzo… please.’
I break.
I break for her.
I break with her.
And under the Sicilian moon, with the sea crashing at our feet, Giada rides me like she’s claiming back her life, her memory, her body, piece by trembling piece, until she shatters apart in my arms.
And I follow her straight into the dark.