Chapter 25 – Elara
Standing at the edge of the rooftop feels different today. The wind comes off the ocean clean and cool, carrying the scent of salt and morning mist. I lean against the metal railing, feeling its rough edges press into my palms, a comforting reminder that this moment is real. Down below, the city begins to stir, slowly shaking off sleep. But up here, it's quiet enough that I can finally hear myself think clearly.
Everything feels strangely open. After years spent fighting, running, and bleeding, there’s no one left chasing me. Marco’s gone. Tommy’s a memory. Vince’s betrayal is erased. I'm still standing. Yet somehow, this clarity is scarier than any blade or bullet ever was.
Nico is behind me, quiet as usual. I know he's watching, but he doesn't crowd me. He's always careful about that—always giving me space, even when we're close. It feels odd that I’ve come to rely on that, to count on his presence without question.
When he finally speaks, his voice is gentle but firm. “Stay.”
I turn slowly to face him, the breeze lifting strands of my hair into my eyes. “Stay here, or stay with you?”
His eyes don’t waver. “Either. Both.”
I step away from the rail, pacing slightly. I can feel his eyes following me, patient, waiting. “I spent a long time fighting just to feel free. I’m not about to let anyone put me back in another cage. Not even you.”
He nods once, slowly. “I know. That’s not what I’m asking.”
“Then what are you asking, Nico?” My voice is sharp, tension coiled beneath every word. “Because I can’t just slip into another role. I can’t go back to being anyone’s pawn.”
“I’m not asking you to.” He takes a step forward, stopping when he sees me tense slightly. “I never wanted you trapped. You know that.”
“I know,” I admit quietly, exhaling. “But freedom is a tricky thing. Sometimes it feels safer to run.”
He holds my gaze, calm but unyielding. “Is that what you want? To keep running?”
“No.” The word leaves me instantly, raw and honest. I glance away briefly, gathering myself before looking back at him. “I want to know what it’s like to stop. I want to feel safe enough to stay.”
He considers me carefully, letting my words settle between us. “I can’t promise safety. You know the life we live.”
I laugh softly, shaking my head. “I’m not asking for guarantees. Just the truth.”
He steps forward again, slowly reaching out to touch the silver chain around my neck, fingertips brushing lightly against my collarbone. The gesture is soft, deliberate—gentle enough to reassure, strong enough to remind me he’s here.
“The truth is, you’ve always been free, Elara. You just needed someone to help break the locks.”
My chest tightens slightly, emotion rising in my throat. “And now that they’re broken?”
His thumb brushes gently along the curve of my neck, soothing and solid. “Now, it’s your choice. It always was.”
I lean into his touch, just slightly, feeling a part of myself relax. “I want to be free with you, Nico. But only if you understand what that means.”
“I do,” he says simply, no hesitation. “It means no cages. No chains. No lies.”
I hold his gaze, searching for even a hint of doubt. I find none. “Can you live with that?”
His lips twitch faintly into a small smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I exhale slowly, tension easing in my shoulders. “Then that’s enough.”
He nods again, silent understanding passing between us. The wind picks up slightly, pulling us closer, carrying away the heaviness lingering in the air.
Before either of us can speak again, the buzzing of my phone cuts sharply through the silence. I flinch instinctively, glancing at Nico. His expression darkens slightly—calls like this usually aren’t good news.
“Answer it,” he says quietly. “Better to know.”
I nod, pulling the phone from my jacket and swiping to answer. “Yeah?”
Giorgia’s voice comes through, low and urgent. “Elara, you there?”
“Yeah. What’s wrong?”
“You and Drago need to get off that rooftop.” Giorgia’s voice is strained, tense. “Marco’s crew is still looking for blood. Word’s out—they’re gathering again.”
My fingers tighten around the phone. I glance at Nico, whose eyes sharpen immediately at my reaction. “How many?”
“Enough to worry about,” she replies quickly. “They’re not done yet. Just watch your back.”
“Thanks, Giorgia.” I hang up quickly, pocketing the phone. I turn to Nico, heart speeding up. “Marco’s men are still out there. They’re regrouping.”
His expression hardens, but he doesn’t look surprised. “Figured as much.”
“What do we do?” I ask quietly, feeling that familiar burn of adrenaline rising again. “We can’t fight forever.”
“No, but we don’t have to run either,” he says firmly. “We face it. We finish it.”
I sigh, shaking my head slightly. “Does it ever end?”
His eyes soften, stepping closer again, hand finding mine. “It will. But only if we end it. Completely.”
I glance down at our joined hands, feeling the warmth and strength radiating from him. “And after that?”
“After that,” he says quietly, gently squeezing my fingers, “we decide how to live.”
I look up, meeting his gaze steadily. “Together?”
His lips twitch faintly again. “If that’s what you want.”
My chest loosens fully now, relief finally overtaking fear. “It is.”
“Good,” he says softly, pulling me gently closer. “Then let them come. We’ll finish this, once and for all.”
I press closer against him, feeling the warmth and solidity of his body anchoring me. “No more running.”
“No more,” he agrees softly, his voice brushing against my ear. “We’ve earned better.”
“We’ve earned peace,” I whisper.
He tilts my chin up slightly, his gaze serious but warm. “Then let’s fight one last time. For that.”
I nod slowly, determination solidifying inside me. “Alright. But first, let’s just have this moment.”
He exhales softly, wrapping his arms fully around me, his heartbeat steady against my cheek. “Take all the time you need.”
We stand quietly, the wind softening around us, carrying away old fears. The rooftop feels safe, even if just for now. I breathe deeply, taking in the scent of ocean and morning air, feeling peace wash over me. Nico holds me carefully, not tightly, leaving space for my freedom even in this moment.
“Ours,” I whisper into his chest, feeling the truth of it fully now—not just as a vow, but as my choice.
His voice echoes quietly, resonating deeply in my chest. “Always ours.”
I let my eyes drift closed briefly, feeling lighter than I ever thought possible. This isn’t a perfect ending. It's not even close. But it feels like a beginning I can finally claim as mine.
Here, now, on this rooftop in the pale dawn light, I choose to stay. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Because for once, I can see clearly.
Freedom isn’t about running—it’s about choosing where you belong.
And here, with Nico, I’ve finally found my place.