Extended Epilogue
GIO
Downtown Chicago hums with late-night energy—the kind that makes the air feel electric and dangerous all at once.
Streetlamps cast gold halos on the slick pavement, and traffic murmurs by like an afterthought.
We’ve just left Osteria Nido, the kind of place that costs more than it looks and serves wine older than my little brother.
Stephanie walks beside me, her heels clicking on the sidewalk, each step confident and unhurried.
She loops her arm through mine like she owns me—and hell, maybe she does.
Her laugh curls through the air like cigarette smoke, sultry and slow.
“You know,” she says, bumping her hip against mine, “I think the waiter was trying to flirt with me.”
I glance down at her, arching a brow. “He was two seconds from kissing my shoes when he saw my last name on the reservation.”
“Which you insisted on using.” She pokes her finger into my chest. “You just wanted to make a scene.”
“Me? Never.”
She rolls her eyes, but her smile betrays her. Stephanie doesn’t play games.
That’s what I love about her—what makes every second feel like something real in a world full of pretense and blood oaths.
“You didn’t have to growl at him, though.”
“I didn’t growl.”
“You practically marked me like a dog.”
“Don’t tempt me.” I lean closer, brushing my lips along her jaw, my voice low. “You like it when I get possessive.”
Her breath hitches, and her grip on my arm tightens. “Only a little.”
I chuckle, dipping my head to kiss her neck. She smells like honey and leather, warm and sweet with a hint of something sharp underneath.
Addictive. Dangerous.
God, my father would lose his mind if he saw us right now.
He thinks I’m spending tonight discussing logistics with some port contact in the South Side.
Instead, I’m kissing a woman he’d call unsuitable—the daughter of a dentist, with no political value, no Sicilian pedigree, and definitely no interest in bowing to the traditions of our world.
Which is exactly why I can’t stay away.
Stephanie tugs me toward a nearby building alcove, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Come here,” she whispers, already pulling me by the lapels of my coat.
I let her push me back against the brick wall, her fingers twining into my hair as she kisses me.
It’s not gentle.
It's the kind of kiss that makes promises and breaks rules.
Her lips taste like Chianti and a dare.
My hands find her waist, drawing her closer, her curves fitting perfectly against me like the final piece in a puzzle I didn’t know I was missing.
“You always do this,” she says between kisses. “Make me forget where I’m going.”
“Then don’t go.”
She pulls back just enough to smirk. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I’m serious.”
“You always say that when we’re kissing.”
“I’m serious all the time.”
“Gio.” Her tone softens. “You know we can’t stay in this little bubble forever.”
“I’ll make it bigger.”
She chuckles, resting her forehead against mine. “You’d try, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d do a hell of a lot more than try.”
The thing is—I mean every damn word.
She’s the only person who’s ever made me want out of the games.
Out of the politics, the backroom deals, the expected alliances. I’d burn every bridge to keep her.
But that’s not a decision you get to make alone—not in this family.
I look at her, really look. The wind lifts a strand of her hair, and I tuck it behind her ear. “Come with me next time I leave town.”
“Gio—”
“I’m not asking for forever. Just… don’t disappear when we’re not in the same zip code.”
She leans in again, slower this time. The kiss is softer, but there’s something final about it. Like she’s memorizing the shape of my mouth.
When she pulls away, her hand lingers on my chest. “If I stay any longer, I’ll never leave.”
“That’s the point.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Text me when you get home?”
“Only if you promise not to ghost me for three days again.”
“That was one time.”
“Still traumatized.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She rises on tiptoe to press one last kiss against the corner of my mouth.
Then she steps back, fingers slipping from mine like falling silk.
Stephanie walks toward the curb, her coat flaring behind her, arm raised to flag a cab.
I watch her like I always do—grinning like an idiot, like a man who doesn’t know better.
I’m already thinking of texting her in five minutes.
Already planning the next time I’ll get to steal her away.
Then I hear it.
Tires. Fast. Wrong.
My body registers the sound before my brain does—rubber shrieking against pavement, a guttural growl of an engine, too close, too deliberate.
A dark van barrels around the corner, jumping the curb with brutal precision.
“Stephanie!”
She turns just as the sliding door yanks open.
Two men in black—masks, gloves, coordinated—lunge toward her.
She screams.
One grabs her around the waist, the other clamps a hand over her mouth.
Her legs kick, heels scraping uselessly against the ground.
My feet are already moving.
“Hey!” I roar, pulling my gun from inside my jacket.
But they’re faster.
She disappears inside the van like a scene from a nightmare, and the door slams shut.
I fire—once, twice—but the bullets ricochet off metal, useless against the acceleration of the van as it peels away, taillights burning red like warning signs.
“No!” My voice shreds through the night.
I sprint after them, rage and panic crashing in my chest like a storm. But the van speeds through the next light and vanishes between buildings.
Gone.
She’s gone.
I stop in the middle of the street, chest heaving, gun still clenched in my fist.
Horns blare around me—cars swerving, someone yelling—but it’s all just noise. Background static.
My mind is blank. Then it’s screaming.
I spin in place, trying to make sense of it, trying to remember every detail—the license plate, the make of the van, anything.
But my memory is already bleeding at the edges, blurred by adrenaline.
My phone. I fumble for it, hands shaking, calling the only number that matters in this moment.
“Miko,” I bark when my brother picks up. “They took her. Someone just fucking took Stephanie.”
“What? What the hell do you mean—”
“Van. Two men. Masks. She was right in front of me—I was right there!”
“Where are you?”
“State and Kinzie. Outside Nido.”
“Stay put. I’m sending someone.”
I hang up without saying goodbye. My thumb hovers over the contacts list. My father’s name glares at me like a threat.
I don’t call him.
I can already imagine his response. You were distracted. Careless. Chasing a girl who’s not part of this world. And the worst part? He wouldn’t be wrong.
But if anything happens to her…
I press the heel of my palm to my eyes, trying to keep the rising tide of fury from boiling over.
Stephanie isn’t some pawn.
She isn’t leverage.
She’s not expendable.
She’s mine.
And someone just made the biggest mistake of their life.
TO BE CONTINUED.