Chapter Eleven
Sabrina
Dario is stretched across my lap, his head resting just below my ribs. One of his hands is fisted into my hoodie while the other curls around my sleeve. He's half-asleep, his eyes fluttering as I run my fingers slowly through his hair, grounding both of us.
I look down at the screen of my phone one last time.
The feed from the tiny camera hidden in the headmistress's office is still paused on the conversation I'd watched earlier.
Rafael's voice echoes in my head, the way his anger sharpened when he realised I'd been kicked out and left alone to survive.
I lock the phone and set it beside me.
I shouldn't be surprised. I've known for a week that they're my biological family, that they share my blood, but that doesn't automatically mean anything. Blood never protected me before. It never stopped Ivan, and it never saved me.
And yet Rafael had been furious.
Hearing him demand to know why I had an apartment, why his seventeen-year-old daughter was living alone, had knocked the air out of my lungs. He cared. That was the part I couldn't stop thinking about.
He hadn't dismissed it or tried to turn it into something positive by calling me strong or resourceful. He had seen it for what it was: neglect. Somehow, that mattered more than I wanted it to.
I've been missing for seventeen years. They didn't raise me. They didn't know the nights, the hunger, the training or the blood. They didn't know Diabola. They didn't know Morana.
So why did it feel like something had cracked open in my chest when I realised Rafael was angry on my behalf?
No adult had ever cared like that. Not really.
Sean came close. He was protective, loyal and stubborn, but Sean didn't know everything. He didn't know I lived alone. If he did, he would have dealt with the headmistress long ago.
Rafael knew now.
He hadn't looked at me like I was broken. He'd looked at me like I was his daughter.
The thought scared me more than I wanted to admit.
Dario shifts, burrowing closer against me, and I press a kiss to the top of his head without thinking.
They're adopting him.
That part doesn't surprise me. I saw it in their faces long before Rafael said anything. They weren't going to take me away from Dario, not after seeing how much he means to me. But caring about me? That was something I hadn't expected.
I stare at the dark screen of my phone, catching my reflection in it. Seventeen years missing, and somehow, in the space of a few days, I've gone from being a ghost to being wanted.
I don't know what to do with that.
Dario sighs in his sleep, completely unaware that the world around us is changing. I tighten my arm around him, grounding myself in the one thing I understand without question. Whatever happens next, whatever this family becomes, I won't let anyone fail him.
And I'm starting to realise that Rafael might feel the same way about me.
A soft knock sounds at the door.
Dario stirs almost instantly, blinking up at me. I brush my thumb over his temple.
“It's okay,” I murmur.
The door opens a second later.
Rafael and Bianca step inside first, careful and almost hesitant, as though they're walking into something fragile. Matteo, Enzo and Dante follow behind them, filling the doorway with their presence, but Dario's attention immediately settles on Rafael and Bianca.
His face lights up.
“You!” he says, sitting straighter on my lap. “You were outside before.”
Bianca smiles, lowering herself slightly so she's closer to his height.
“We were.”
Dario tilts his head. “You said you were waiting to see someone special to your daughter.”
Rafael chuckles softly. “That's right.”
Dario looks between them, then back at me before returning his attention to them.
“Did you meet them?”
Bianca's eyes shine as she answers.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Rafael nods, his gaze settling fully on Dario. “We did.”
Dario's mouth curves into a slow, proud smile, as though he's solved an important puzzle.
“Good,” he says seriously. “Because you were waiting a very long time.”
Something tightens in my chest.
Bianca reaches towards him but stops before touching him, giving him the choice.
“May I?”
Dario looks at me.
I nod.
She gently smooths a hand over his hair, careful and almost reverent, as though she already knows how much this moment matters.
Dario shifts on my lap, his small fingers tightening around my hoodie as he looks around the room. His eyes move between the adults at the doorway and the quiet space where the other children usually fill the air with laughter.
“Why are you in my room?” he asks softly.
I take a slow breath.
This moment matters.
“Because,” I say gently, brushing my thumb beneath his sleepy eyes, “I found something out. I've had a family all along.”
His eyes flick towards mine, searching my face for an explanation he doesn't quite understand. I lift my chin slightly and point towards the adults standing before us.
“That's my dad,” I say, nodding towards Rafael. “And that's my mum.”
Bianca's eyes glisten with unshed tears.
Dario's lower lip trembles. Tears begin to well in his eyes, and his arms tighten around me.
“Does that mean you're going to leave?” he asks, his voice cracking. “Are you gonna go and I stay here?”
My chest clenches. I pull him closer, pressing my forehead against his.
“No. God, no. Never. I would never leave you.”
Rafael steps forward and lowers himself to Dario's eye level.
“Hey, buddy,” he says gently. “We wanted to ask you something.”
Bianca kneels beside him, her smile soft despite the tears slipping down her cheeks.
“Would you like to come home with us?”
Dario blinks, confused.
“But... but the headmistress says kids have to wait. They have to be adopted first.”
Rafael's smile deepens.
“That's true. But you don't have to wait anymore.”
Dario's eyes widen.
“Why?”
“Because,” Bianca says softly, reaching out her hand, “we've already adopted you.”
The room goes silent.
Dario stares at them, then at me, as though he's afraid this might be a trick.
“Adopted?” he asks, his voice small.
I nod, my throat too tight for words.
His face crumples, and he throws himself against me, wrapping his tiny arms around my neck.
“You're not leaving me,” he sobs into my shoulder. “You're staying.”
“I'm staying,” I whisper, holding him tightly. “We're staying together.”
Behind us, Bianca cries quietly in Rafael's arms as he holds her close.
In that moment, with Dario clinging to me and my parents standing before us, something I didn't even know I was missing finally settles into place. For the first time in my life, I'm not choosing between pieces of family.
I have one.
Dario eventually pulls back, his cheeks still damp and his lashes clumped together from crying. He notices the three men still standing in the doorway, watching him carefully as though they're afraid to move too quickly.
He straightens in my lap.
“Hi... I'm Dario,” he says quietly. Then, with a little more confidence, he adds, “But you can call me Rio.”
Matteo, standing near a pile of toys by the door, lifts an eyebrow.
“Hey, Rio. I'm Matteo, but you can call me Teo.”
Dante steps forward next, clearly trying to soften himself despite his size.
“Hey, kid. I'm Dante.”
Dario nods seriously, accepting the introduction as though it's a formal agreement.
Then Enzo, leaning casually against the doorframe, smirks.
“Hey, little kid. I'm Enzo.”
Dario goes completely still. His grip on my hand tightens.
“Do not call me a little kid, old man.”
For a moment, nobody moves.
Then the room erupts with laughter.
Matteo doubles over, Dante turns away to hide his grin, Bianca laughs through her tears, and even Rafael can't completely suppress his smile.
Matteo eventually straightens, wiping at his eyes before looking at Enzo.
“Careful. If you frown any harder, that wrinkle on your forehead is going to become permanent.”
Enzo glares at him.
Matteo only grins. “Kid's got sharp eyes. First thing he notices about you is your age.”
He claps Enzo on the shoulder.
“From now on, he's officially my favourite brother.”
Dario beams, clearly pleased with himself, his earlier tears already forgotten.
***
The private jet hums steadily as we cut through the sky towards New York. The cabin lights are dim and golden, making everything feel unreal, as though this is simply another temporary stop rather than the beginning of something permanent.
Everything happened quickly. Bianca helped Dario pack his clothes, folding each tiny shirt carefully while he stood on the bed giving instructions about which toys absolutely had to come. The boys carried his small box of belongings down to the car as though it contained something fragile.
Then we went to my apartment.
I didn't let them come upstairs.
Inside, the apartment felt smaller than it ever had. Not because it was empty, but because it suddenly looked temporary, like it had always been a place to survive rather than a place to live.
I packed quickly: clothes, cash, documents and the essentials I could grab without thinking. Then I moved to the places no one else knew about.
The knife taped behind the pipe beneath the bathroom sink. The spare blade hidden in the lining of the mattress. The handgun wrapped carefully in cloth behind the false panel in the kitchen cabinet. The ammunition in a shoebox beneath the bed.
I worked methodically, wrapping everything tightly and burying it at the bottom of my bag. If they saw any of it, the questions would start immediately. Why did she need weapons? Why were they hidden like emergency exits instead of possessions?
I wasn't ready for that conversation.
Before leaving, I made sure the apartment looked untouched. No signs of who I'd been. No clues about who I really was.
When I stepped back outside, Rafael was leaning against the car with his arms crossed, staring up at the building as though he disapproved of it entirely. He took the heavier bag from my hand and placed it in the trunk without a word.
Now, on the jet, Dario sits pressed against my side, clutching one of his toy cars. Every so often, he looks out the window as though he expects to see Los Angeles waving goodbye beneath us.
“Are we really going to your mum and dad's house?” he asks quietly.
I brush my fingers through his hair.
“They're your mum and dad now too,” I tell him gently. “So it's our house.”
He blinks, processing that.
“So... I get a dad?”
My throat tightens, but I nod.
“Yeah. You get a dad and a mum.”
He looks across the aisle at Rafael and Bianca, studying them as though he's measuring something important. Bianca smiles at him immediately, soft and warm, while Rafael gives him a small nod.
Dario turns back towards me and leans closer.
“Do you think he'll teach me how to drive?”
A quiet laugh escapes me.
“You're four.”
“I know,” he says seriously. “But when I'm big.”
I press a kiss to the top of his head.
“Yeah. I think he will.”
For the first time since this whole thing started, the word home doesn't feel like something I'm borrowing. It feels like something we might actually get to keep.
I glance towards the overhead compartment where my bags are stored. They think they'retaking me home.
They don't know what I packed.
I rest my hand over Dario's back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Maybe this is safety. Maybe it's just another place I'll have to be ready for.
Either way, I'm not going anywhere unarmed.