42. Saverio
42
SAVERIO
I stand outside Lucia’s door, but I don’t remember how I got there.
I remember talking to Dante, then the next thing I knew, I was on the highway. A couple of hours passed, and I had no clear direction until I stopped at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. I don’t remember thinking about Lucia, about my future, about the dark revelations that came out tonight, but I must have been. Because I wound up at Lucia’s door, pounding on the wood and demanding that she let me in.
There is dried blood on my knuckles, and flecks cover my shirt and jeans. The adrenaline from the fight with Kristopher and the subsequent heated confrontation with Dante still pulses in my veins, but the only thing on my mind now is Lucia. I’m done waiting, done with all the bullshit that’s kept us apart for the last few years. I knock on the door again, and a second later, it opens.
Lucia stands there with a confused look on her face. As she takes in the sight of me, her eyes begin to widen. Her lips part slightly, but she doesn’t say a word. Instead, she stiffens, her shoulders tensing as her eyes dart away from me. She’s overwhelmed and angry—I can see it in the way her jaw tightens.
I step toward her, my heart pounding, but out of instinct, she takes a step back. Her retreat feels like a physical blow, but I force myself to remain still. Raffaele appears at the top of the stairs, his expression unreadable in the dim light. He hesitates, watching our tense standoff, but doesn’t make his way down. “I had to handle something tonight,” I explain to Lucia.
“Clearly,” she replies shakily.
I glance down at the blood on my clothes and the stains on my hands and kick myself for not thinking to go home. But when I left Kristopher’s, I wasn’t thinking of anything at all, let alone the damning evidence I was carrying on my person. “I’ll tell you everything. You need to know everything.” The words come off desperate—begging, pleading, hopeful that she’ll listen.
But Lucia doesn’t respond. Instead, she shifts uncomfortably. Her fingers grip the door handle as if it’s the only thing holding her upright. Her silence only pushes me to keep going, to make her understand what I did and why I’m here looking like this.
“I confronted Kristopher tonight. Your brothers were with me.”
Her eyes flash with worry, but she keeps her gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. It frustrates me to see her shutting me out, but I push through.
“I brought them in to help me because I knew they would do whatever it took to protect you. Luciano,” I begin, “I think he would have killed Kristopher with his bare hands if I let him. He’s your twin; he shared a womb with you. He would go to hell and back for you.” I may not like Luciano Terlizzi, but he’s the other half of Lucia’s soul.
I press on even though I’m met with silence. “And Dante would have fought an army if it meant saving you. You’re his baby sister; there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. The same with Salvatore and Niccolo. They hate me, but they showed up for you . They wanted the truth as badly as I did because we had to know what Kristopher was capable of.”
Lucia meets my gaze. “And what was he capable of, Saverio? What did he do?”
“He stalked and harassed you, Lucia. He terrorized you. He came into your home when you were gone and when you were sleeping upstairs. He followed you around. He made you feel like you were going crazy.” I’m tired of tiptoeing around her. Lucia is a big girl and a strong woman; she can handle the truth.
Lucia’s hands tremble as she crosses her arms over her chest. “How do you know that?” She’s bracing herself for the worst, and I can’t protect her from it.
“We beat it out of him,” I say, my voice low and unflinching. Her head snaps up, her eyes wide, but I press on. “I shattered his kneecap, heard it crack, and watched it explode after I took a crowbar to it. He begged us to stop, but we couldn’t stop, Lucia. Not until we had answers.”
She closes her eyes to stave off the image forming in her head. “You know I don’t want to hear about that,” she says, her voice tight and controlled. “I’ve told you before—I don’t want to hear about your lifestyle. I don’t want to know about all the horrible things you do.”
The words sting, even though I knew they were coming. But I can’t stop now. Not when she needs to know why. Not when this was all for her.
I step closer, my voice softening as I try to make her understand. “He admitted to all of this, Dandelion. Every damn bit of it. He’d been following you, stalking you, watching you—just like you suspected. And more than that,” I pause, waiting for her to open her eyes, for her to face what I’m about to say head-on. “He admitted that the person who ordered him to do this was Lucrezia.”
Her breath hitches, and for a second, her expression flickers—shock, confusion, disbelief. They dance across her face in rapid succession, a kaleidoscope of emotions I recognize all too well. She goes through all the emotions I had when I found out that my sister was behind the order that turned her life upside down. I can almost see the gears turning in her head, trying to reconcile the Lucrezia she thought she knew with this monstrous revelation.
“Lucrezia,” she repeats, barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud might somehow change the reality. Her eyes meet mine, and I see the storm brewing behind them—the hurt, the anger, the fear.
“She did it to get to Dante,” I continue. “She was in love with him, obsessed with him. And when he started pulling away, she used you to punish him and keep him preoccupied. Except it didn’t work. You asked for his help once and then never needed him again. But it wasn’t just about Dante. She knew about us, too. About everything.”
Lucia’s face goes pale, her arms falling limply to her sides. She looks as if she might collapse under the weight of it all. And I hate that I’m the one who had to bring her this pain, but I had no choice.
“She used you to hurt me, too,” I say quietly. “She wanted to strike at me through you, Dandelion. And she knew exactly how to do it. Except she was wrong there, too. You didn’t come to me at all; you didn’t tell me any of it was happening.”
Lucia’s gaze drops, her shoulders slumping under an invisible weight. She wraps her arms tightly around herself as if trying to hold herself together, fingers digging into her sides. I can hear her breathing, shaky and uneven, as she processes everything I’ve just laid in front of her. Her lips tremble, and she blinks rapidly, fighting back tears that threaten to spill over. I resist the urge to reach out and comfort her, knowing that right now, my touch might do more harm than good.
“You didn’t have to tell me this,” she says after a long silence, her voice distant. “You didn’t have to tell me any of it.”
“I did,” I say, my chest tightening. “Because you deserve to know the truth. No more secrets. No more lies. You need to know exactly what I’ve done. What I’ll keep doing for the rest of my life to protect you, Dandelion.”
She stiffens again, her eyes narrowing. I can see the anger burning behind them, but I don’t care. Not anymore.
“I’m tired of waiting,” I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. I step closer, close enough to feel her warmth but not enough for her to step away. “I’ve spent my entire life waiting for a woman like you.” I pause, watching the way her chest rises and falls as she takes in my words. “Someone who challenges me, who doesn’t just bend to my will because of my name or my power. You make me feel alive, Lucia, in ways I never thought possible.”
I reach for her, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric covering her waist as I search her gaze, needing her to understand. “Every day with you feels like heaven—it feels like something I’ve never experienced before. And I know I don’t deserve you, not after everything I’ve done, but you—” My voice falters for a moment, overwhelmed by the weight of the truth I’m about to lay bare.
“You’re it, Lucia. You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like more than a monster. You see me. Not just the man I am now, but the man I could be—with you.” My grip tightens on her waist, pulling her closer as I pour everything into my words. “I don’t care about the past or what we’ve done to each other because none of it matters. I don’t matter without you. I’ve fought my whole life for control, power, and respect, but none of it means a damn thing if I can’t have you by my side.”
I feel the heat of her body against mine, and it’s like electricity coursing through me. My chest aches from the intensity of it, of how badly I want her to see what she means to me. “You make me better, Dandelion. You make me want to be better. And I know I’m not perfect. Hell, I know I’ve done terrible things. But for you, I’d do anything.”
I pull her tighter, close enough to feel her heartbeat against mine, my voice lowering as I bring my forehead to hers. “I’m done waiting, Lucia. I’ve waited long enough. I don’t want to waste another minute without you. I want you to be mine—now, forever, and completely. Marry me. Be with me. Let me prove to you, every single day, that you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered.”
And then I kiss her, pouring everything I can’t say into the kiss. I give her my regrets, my anger, my passion, my everything. When I pull back, I search her face, my voice almost a whisper. “Tell me you feel it, too. Tell me you can look past all the terrible, horrifying things I’ve done and love me for who I am.”
Lucia’s eyes flick down to the blood on my shirt, her lips parting slightly as she takes in the grim evidence of my violence. A flicker of uncertainty crosses her face, and then she says the word that stops me cold, that shatters my world in an instant. “No.” Her voice is soft but resolute, carrying a finality that cuts deeper than any blade.
It feels like the ground crumbles beneath me. I stare at her, my heart pounding in my chest, the shock of her rejection hitting me like a punch.
“I’m pregnant,” she says, her voice trembling, but her words are firm. “You got your wish; you knocked me up. But Saverio, you miscalculated what becoming a mother would do to me. You want me to forgive your past mistakes, but your past mistakes will be repeated in the future. You’ll hurt men again. You’ll do things I don’t want to hear about. You’ll kill for your Family. And right now, I need to decide if I want to be the family you’ll kill for.”
The words hang in the air between us, and I can’t move. I can’t think. She’s pregnant with my child. I’ve dreamt of this moment for years. I should be jumping for joy. I should be swinging her around and showering her in kisses. But I can’t move.
Before I can respond, Lucia pulls away from me, her voice sharp. “I want you to leave, Saverio. And take your bodyguard with you this time, or I’ll call the cops. I mean it.”
I open my mouth to argue, to say something, but the look in her eyes silences me. She’s serious. She’s never looked at me like this before. And for the first time, I feel something I’ve never felt with her before—fear. Fear that she might leave me for good. Fear that she’ll take my child and disappear. And the only person I would have to blame is myself.
Without another word, I turn and walk out the door, the weight of her words still ringing in my ears. She needs space. She needs time. If I give her these things, she’ll come back to me. She always does.
I climb in my car and stare at her home, hands gripping the steering wheel at ten and two. A few seconds later, Raffaele opens my door and crouches down.
“Let me drive, boss,” he says gently but firmly.
My heart catches in my throat as a sob wells up. I was so sure that I’d show up at Lucia’s door and we’d find our way forward. What happened?
Raffaele grabs me by the arm and helps me out of the car. He walks me to the passenger seat, caring for me like I’m an invalid. I’m too dazed to speak, too shocked to say a word. Raffaele drives me back to Manhattan while I sit beside him, wondering how my plan unraveled so quickly.