46. Saverio
46
SAVERIO
I ’m staring blankly at the television screen, my eyes unfocused and glazed over. The images flicker and dance, but I can’t make sense of them. The sound is a distant murmur, barely registering in my consciousness. My mind is adrift, lost in a hazy fog somewhere I can’t quite grasp. This sensation of disconnection, of being utterly detached from reality, is foreign and unsettling. I’ve always prided myself on my sharp wit and quick thinking, but now I feel helpless, stripped of my usual mental acuity. The realization that I’m so powerless in the face of my own life is a bitter pill to swallow.
I’ve spent the last week nearly comatose. Even while at work and dealing with Family business, it’s been a struggle to keep my mind on anything but Lucia. Raffaele asked me last night if I needed to speak to the Family therapist, and that’s when I realized how badly this whole situation was affecting me. “Not right now, but maybe later,” I offered weakly.
Losing Lucia and the baby has brought me lower than I’ve ever been in my life. They’re alive, but somehow, they’re dead. I tried to reach out to her, but she didn’t respond. Raffaele told me to send her flowers, to write her a letter, to make a grand gesture, but he doesn’t know Lucia. She said she needed space, and until she figures out what she wants, all the flowers, letters, and gestures in the world are meaningless. They would only serve to push her in the wrong direction—even further away from me.
I feel like I’m dead inside. The world could burn down around me, and I wouldn’t know the difference.
My phone buzzes on the side table, jolting me from disparaging thoughts. I twist my head to glance at the screen, praying it’s a spam caller so I can ignore it, but I see Dante’s name instead. My first instinct is to ignore it anyway. Whatever he needs, he can handle it himself. But a little voice in the back of my head says, ‘What if he’s calling about Lucia? What if she’s in the hospital and there’s a problem with the baby?’
Fear drives a spike into my chest, and I reach for the phone like a lifeline. “What?” I grunt into the receiver as I pick up.
Dante’s voice is rough, but there’s something in it I haven’t heard in a while—maybe ever. “You’ve got one chance, Castiglione. Lucia’s here for dinner. So if you want to fix whatever shit you’ve gotten yourself into, now’s the chance. Don’t fuck it up. Or do. I don’t care.”
Before I can respond, the line goes dead. I stare at the phone for a second as his words sink in. Lucia is at Dante’s.
I quickly navigate to my tracking app, and sure enough, her blue dot is shining at the Terlizzi compound just outside of Manhattan. My brain goes blank for a minute; I don’t know what to do.
“Deep breath,” I counsel myself as I get to my feet. “Get your shit together.” That’s all I need. It drives me forward, urging me to change into something nicer, grab my keys, and head for the door. I don’t know what I will say to her, but I know I can’t let this chance slip through my fingers; it might be the only one I get.
As I drive to Dante’s clear across town, the streetlights pass in a blur of amber and white. I run a stop sign, maybe even two, but in truth, I’m not paying attention to the road or the other cars around me. My mind is racing with a thousand different thoughts, each one vying for dominance. What will I say when I see Lucia? How will she react? Can I change everything between us? The urgency of the moment has consumed me entirely, leaving little room for the mundane concerns of traffic laws and safe driving practices.
“What the hell am I going to say to her?” I slam my hand down on the steering wheel. “How can I make her see how much she means to me?” The car doesn’t respond; neither does the night sky or the streets I pass through. I’m left to come up with an answer on my own.
By the time I pull up to the Terlizzi compound, my hands are shaking. I grip the steering wheel for a second and force myself to breathe. “You’ve got this,” I tell myself as I climb out of the car. “You know what you need to do.”
I walk to the front door and knock, my heart pounding in my chest. The seconds crawl by, each one stretching into an eternity. I shift my weight from foot to foot, fighting the urge to turn and run. Then, finally, the door creaks open.
Lucia stands there in her casual Friday work clothes—a soft blue blouse and dark slacks—her mouth hanging open when she sees me. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I’ve gazed into countless times, narrow to a glare that breaks my heart in two. The pain in her expression is palpable, but I force myself not to look away. I can’t focus on my own hurt right now.
“Lucia,” I start, my voice steady despite the desperation behind it that I can’t hide. My hands clench at my sides, itching to reach out and hold her. “Don’t shut the door. Please. I need to apologize. I know I’ve messed up, but I’m here to make things right.”
She doesn’t respond, doesn’t move a muscle. The silence between us is deafening, filled with unspoken words and raw emotion. But she doesn’t slam the door in my face, either. Her hesitation is enough to make me keep going. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words spilling out faster than I can control. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through over the years. I know I’ve done things—things you hate, things I hate—but I did them because I love you. And sometimes, that love has driven me to do crazy things. It’s made me do things and say things that I never should have done or said. In the moment, it all made sense, but none of it matters now. The thought of losing you forever has nearly broken me.”
Lucia remains silent, her eyes locked on mine, but I can see the tension in her shoulders start to loosen.
“I want to be the man you deserve, Lucia—the man you’ve always wanted me to be. I know I’m not perfect, far from it. I’m going to make mistakes, I’m going to piss you off, I’m going to say and do things that make you want to run away and never come back. But I love you, Lucia Terlizzi, and I will do whatever it takes to prove that I am worthy of you, our future, and our baby.”
Her breath catches at my words, but before I can say anything else, Luciano steps into view. His face is contorted into a mask of shock. “Wait. What did you just say?” His gaze flicks between me and Lucia, and I can see the moment it clicks. His features soften just a fraction as he asks his twin, “Are you pregnant?”
With a shaky laugh and tears welling up in her eyes, she nods, her hand instinctively moving to rest on her still-flat stomach. “Yes,” her voice breaks. “I’m not very far along. Six weeks. With Saverio’s baby.” She glances between her brother and me, uncertainty clouding her features.
Luciano’s eyes narrow dangerously as he tears his gaze away from Lucia and pins me with a glare that could melt steel. His jaw clenches, muscles twitching beneath his skin. “You son of a bitch,” he growls as he steps past his sister, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
But Lucia reaches out to grab his arm, stopping him before he can exact his vengeance. “Don’t, Luc,” she says firmly, her voice trembling but strong. “He’s going to be the father of my child and my husband one day. Our families have to stop fighting.”
The tension in the air shifts, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. The weight of what’s happening settles on my chest like a boulder. She’s standing up for me—Lucia’s choosing me, openly and without hesitation. For years, I’ve listened to her make excuses to her family, spinning flimsy lies that I was certain they’d see right through. I’ve watched her dance around the truth, always keeping our relationship in the shadows. But now, for the first time, she tells them the unvarnished truth. She picks me, and the gravity of her decision is not lost on any of us. It’s a seismic shift, a declaration that changes everything.
Lucia releases Luciano’s arm and steps forward, her eyes soft but conflicted. “Saverio,” she begins, “our lives have been tangled together for as long as I can remember. I don’t know how to reconcile being with a man who does the things you do. The violence, the danger—it’s all so far removed from the life I thought I’d lead.” She pauses, her brow furrowing as she searches for the right words. “I don’t know how to explain to our children who you are and why you do these things. How can I tell them their father is both the man who tucks them in at night and the one who… God, I can’t even say it. I can’t pretend that these things don’t scare me.”
Lucia pauses to chew on her lower lip, staring at the ground briefly. I can see the internal struggle playing out across her face. But after a moment, she looks back up, her gaze locking with mine. The intensity in her eyes takes my breath away. “But I also don’t know how to live the rest of my life without you,” she continues, her voice growing stronger. “You’re not just a part of my life, Saverio. You’re part of my DNA now; you’re woven into the very fabric of my being. You’re part of my soul. The thought of walking away from you, of trying to carve you out of my heart—it’s unimaginable.”
My chest tightens as her words sink in, but I stay silent and wait for her to finish. I’m afraid if I speak now before she’s had a chance to process exactly what she wants to say, I’ll ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
She takes a deep breath, her eyes meeting mine with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. Slowly, she places a hand on her belly, the gesture both protective and meaningful. “I love you, Saverio,” she says, her voice soft but unwavering. “I can’t deny that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, especially now that we’re having a child together. This baby changes everything, and it makes me realize how much I want us to work.”
She pauses, gathering her thoughts before continuing. “But we need to take it slow. We’ve been through so much, and if we’re going to make this work— really make it work—we need to start from scratch. We need to figure out who we are when we aren’t trying to manipulate each other to get what we want. We need to peel back all the layers and facades we’ve built up over time.”
Her eyes search mine, seeking understanding. “We need to date each other, Saverio. Get to know each other again without all the baggage and expectations. We need to build a foundation that’s strong enough to support not just us but our child, too. Can you understand that?”
I blink, surprised by her request, but then a grin tugs at the corner of my lips. “Date each other?” I ask, letting out a little laugh. “We’ve never really done that before.”
Her cheeks flush a rosy hue, and she averts her gaze momentarily. “Every time we’re together, it always leads to one thing,” she admits.
Luciano groans from behind her. “Please, for the love of God, don’t talk about that in front of me. The last thing I want to hear about is my baby sister having sex with-with-with a Castiglione .”
“Fuck off, Luciano,” I smirk, unable to contain my amusement at his discomfort. I turn back to Lucia, my heart racing with a sudden surge of excitement that I can’t possibly suppress. Without warning, I grab Lucia around her waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground. She lets out a surprised squeal as I spin her around, her hair flying out behind her like a silken banner.
Lucia’s delighted screams fill the air as I pepper her face with quick, tender kisses, my lips brushing against her forehead, her cheeks, and the tip of her nose. Finally, I bury my face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent as I gently set her back down on her feet. Her skin is warm against my lips as I whisper, my voice husky with emotion, “I’ll take you on dates every single night of the week if that’s what it takes. Hell, I’ll wine and dine you at breakfast, lunch, and dinner too. I’ll do anything for you, Dandelion. Anything at all.”
Lucia laughs as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Let’s just start with one date. Who knows. Maybe we won’t even like each other when there’s no drama or angst to keep us preoccupied.”
I’ll love her until the day I die, but if she needs proof, I’ll give it to her gladly. Every day for the rest of our lives if that’s what it takes. “Maybe,” I say, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. “Or maybe you’ll fall madly, hopelessly in love with me when you see me in a suit. I clean up pretty well, you know. You might not be able to resist my charms once I’m all dressed up and taking you somewhere fancy.”
“I’ve seen you in a suit,” Luciano grumbles from the doorway, “you look like a tool.”
“Fuck off, Luciano,” we reply in harmony.
If this is what happily ever after looks like, I’ll fight for it with everything I have.