Chapter Forty-Six
Sabrina
When I was trapped in that basement at eleven years old, I never imagined I'd live to see my eighteenth birthday.
Back then, I'd been convinced my story would end in Russia. Every day had blurred into the next until survival became the only thing that mattered. Birthdays stopped mattering, and there didn't seem much point in imagining a future I didn't believe I'd ever have.
If someone had told that frightened little girl where she'd be seven years later, she would've laughed in their face. How was she supposed to believe that one day she'd escape? That she'd find not only the family she'd spent her entire life searching for, but another one she'd built along the way?
Sean, Asher, Mario, Lillian, Valeria and Dario had become my family long before I ever found the Morettis, giving me a place to belong when I thought I'd lost that chance forever.
Now I had both – my chosen family and my real one – and somehow, every person I loved had found themselves under the same roof.
The dining room had been transformed while Carlo and I were distracted upstairs. Balloons filled the corners, streamers stretched across the ceiling, and in the centre of the table sat a birthday cake with both our names piped neatly across the top.
Our first birthday together.
For the first time in my life, I hadn't bought my own birthday cake. This one had been bought by my parents, while presents were stacked beside it until I'd lost count, each one wrapped with more care than I'd ever known what to do with.
My gaze drifted slowly around the room. Mum was trying to keep some semblance of order while Dad quietly admired the chaos she'd long since given up controlling.
Matteo and Enzo were arguing over something that clearly wasn't important, Dante looked thoroughly unimpressed by whatever they were saying, while Salvatore stood nearby, shaking his head as though he'd seen this exact argument a hundred times before.
Carlo had somehow managed to convince Dario that Nebbia needed a party hat, much to the kitten's obvious disapproval, while Luca watched the whole thing unfold with the resigned expression of someone who'd accepted his family would never be normal.
Around them, my aunts, uncles and cousins filled every spare space, their conversations overlapping until the room became one loud, impossible mess.
Sean, Asher, Mario, Lillian and Valeria had slipped into the middle of it all so naturally that it no longer felt like there had ever been a time they didn't belong here.
The room was loud and chaotic, overflowing with laughter, teasing and conversations that blended into one another until it became impossible to tell where one ended and the next began. It was everything I'd spent seven years believing I'd never have.
It wasn't the presents or the cake that made this birthday unforgettable; it was the fact that, after eighteen years of believing I was alone, I was finally surrounded by the people I'd fought so hard to find.
By the time the afternoon slipped into evening, wrapping paper covered almost every inch of the living room floor.
I'd opened more presents than I knew what to do with: books I'd mentioned wanting to read months ago, clothes Mum insisted she'd “accidentally” bought too many of, and jewellery from my brothers, each piece somehow managing to suit me despite them all claiming they'd had no idea what they were doing.
Someone – Matteo, I suspected – had even convinced the others that buying me a car was a perfectly reasonable birthday present.
Yet, out of everything I'd been given that day, one gift meant more than all the others combined.
Around my neck hung a simple beaded necklace Dario had made himself.
The colourful beads weren't perfectly lined up, and the elastic had been tied into a slightly crooked knot at the back.
At the centre of the necklace sat two small white beads, each carefully marked with a single number, together forming 13.
“I remembered,” he'd said proudly that morning as he'd handed it to me. “You always touch your thirteen.”
My throat had tightened.
He'd noticed.
Somehow, through everything, he'd noticed how often my fingers found the small tattoo on my wrist whenever I was thinking, anxious or simply needed reminding that he was still here.
Mum had quietly admitted she'd helped him tie the necklace after the elastic snapped twice, but every bead had been chosen and threaded by Dario himself.
It wasn't expensive or perfect, but I'd never owned anything more precious. Every few minutes, I caught myself absentmindedly brushing my fingers over the little blue thirteen, smiling whenever I remembered the look on Dario's face after I'd put it on.
As the evening wore on, my aunts, uncles and cousins slowly began saying their goodbyes, promising they'd see us again soon. Before long, only Sean, Asher, Mario and Lillian remained.
I walked them to the front door.
Sean lingered behind while Asher, Mario and Lillian headed towards the car. As I turned back towards the house, he held out a plain white envelope.
“For me?”
He nodded. “This one's better without an audience.”
A small frown creased my forehead as I took it.
“You've already given me a present.”
“I know.”
“...Sean.”
“Open it.”
Curiosity got the better of me. I slipped a finger beneath the seal and pulled out a bank card, turning it over in my hand before looking back at him.
“I think you've given me the wrong envelope.”
“I haven't.”
“The account's mine,” he said before I could ask another question. “But every penny in it belongs to you.”
Confusion settled over me.
“I don't understand.”
Sean rested his forearms against the porch railing, his eyes drifting towards the driveway.
“Do you remember when Olga forced you out of the orphanage?”
My heart lurched.
“...How do you know about that?”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You told Asher, Mario and Lillian not to tell me.”
My stomach dropped.
“They didn't.”
“I know. They kept your secret.”
I frowned.
“Then how?”
“Just because you weren't living under my roof didn't mean I'd stopped looking out for you.”
His voice was steady, but there was a weight behind it that made my chest tighten.
“You thought I didn't know because I never said anything. Truth is... I knew the same day it happened.”
For a moment, I couldn't find my voice.
“I also knew exactly what you'd do if I offered to help.”
A knowing smile crossed his face.
“You'd tell me you could manage it on your own.”
“...Probably.”
“You absolutely would.”
A quiet laugh escaped me despite everything.
“So I respected your decision. I just didn't respect the people who forced you into making it.”
He paused before continuing.
“I knew you'd never take money from me, so I found another way.”
Something in his tone made my stomach knot.
“I bought every apartment building I thought you might realistically move into.”
I blinked.
“...You what?”
“I lowered the rent until I knew you could afford it.”
I stared at him.
“You owned my apartment?”
“I owned several.”
None of it made sense.
“The rent,” he continued, nodding towards the bank card. “I never kept any of it.”
My fingers tightened around the envelope.
“Every payment you made went straight into that account.”
The world seemed to tilt.
“You... saved it?”
He nodded.
“I opened that account the day you moved into your first apartment. My plan was always to give it to you when you were ready to adopt Dario.”
Emotion lodged painfully in my throat.
“I knew you'd never ask me for help,” he said quietly. “So I made sure you'd never need to.”
I glanced back towards the house, where laughter drifted through the open windows.
“You found your family,” he said softly. “You don't need it for that anymore.”
My vision blurred as I thought about every contract, every payment and every dollar I'd earned doing things I wished I'd never had to do.
I'd believed it had all disappeared into rent.
Instead, Sean had quietly been putting it aside, waiting for the day I no longer had to carry everything by myself.
“You should've told me.”
“If I had,” he replied with a small smile, “you'd have packed your bags and moved somewhere else.”
A laugh escaped me.
“...You're right.”
“I know.”
Before I realised what I was doing, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. For a moment, he simply held me before resting his chin lightly against the top of my head.
“You don't have to thank me.”
“I do.”
He smiled.
“You never had to earn being loved, Sabrina.”
The words shattered what little composure I had left.
When we finally pulled apart, I slipped the bank card back into the envelope before wiping quickly at my eyes.
“I can't wait until Sergei's gone.”
“Neither can I.”
“And after that...” I looked towards the gates. “I'm dealing with Olga Petrova.”
Something darkened in Sean's expression. He'd trusted Olga with two children he loved. She'd repaid that trust by throwing me onto the streets, knowing full well what it would mean if the Russians ever got to Dario.
“I've been waiting a long time for that conversation,” he said quietly.
Silence settled between us before he spoke again.
“Can I ask you something?”
I nodded.
“Why haven't you told your family you're Morana?”
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“You've got a plan.”
It wasn't a question.
“I'll tell you when it's time.”
Sean studied me for a long moment before sighing.
“I don't like that smile.”
“What smile?”
“The one that tells me you're about to do something that's going to shorten my lifespan.”
I laughed.
“You'll manage.”
“I'm not convinced.”
Before either of us could say another word, Asher leaned out of the driver's window.
“Dad!” he called. “Are you coming, or are we sleeping here?”
Sean shook his head with a quiet laugh.
“I'll never understand where he gets his impatience from.”
“It definitely isn't you.”
“It absolutely isn't.”
He looked back at me one last time.
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
He gave me the same look he always did when he knew I was lying but had already accepted he wasn't going to change my mind.
“I know you will.”
He climbed into the car, and I remained on the porch until the taillights disappeared beyond the gates, my fingers curled tightly around the envelope.
Standing there, I realised I'd never been nearly as alone as I'd believed.