Chapter 35
Sofia
The door cracks open sometime after midnight, a thin sliver of light cutting across the darkened room. I'm not really asleep—haven't been able to manage more than brief moments of unconsciousness since Dante helped me out of the blood-stained wedding dress and into one of his t-shirts.
I expect to see Dante's familiar silhouette, checking on me like he has twice already tonight. Instead, Vito's frame fills the doorway, and my entire body tenses.
"Can I come in?" His voice is softer than I've ever heard it, almost gentle.
I sit up, pulling the blankets around me like armor. "Do I have a choice?"
"You always have a choice, Sofia. That's what I want to talk to you about."
He enters slowly, leaving the door slightly ajar—probably so I don't feel trapped. The consideration surprises me. He settles into the chair by the window, far enough away that I don't feel crowded but close enough that we can speak quietly.
For a long moment, we just look at each other. In the dim light, he looks older, more tired. The weight of today—of what killing Kieran means for all of us—is written in the lines around his eyes.
"Dante loves you," he says finally.
It's not what I expected him to lead with. "I know that."
"He's never going to leave La Famiglia. This life, this family—it's all he's ever known. All he's ever been."
My throat tightens. "I know that too."
Vito leans forward slightly, his dark eyes searching my face. "The question is, do you want to be part of it? Part of us?"
The tears come without warning, hot and fast down my cheeks. I've been holding them back for hours, trying to be strong, trying to figure out what comes next. But sitting here in the darkness with the man who holds all our lives in his hands, I can't pretend anymore.
"I want time," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I want to make my own decisions, to be alone and understand what I'm feeling so I can choose for myself. Not because I'm scared, not because I'm running, not because someone's forcing me. Because I want to."
He nods slowly, like he was expecting this answer. "And Dante?"
"I love him." The words come out stronger than I feel. "God help me, I love him so much it terrifies me. But if I leave, I'll break his heart. And if I stay just to avoid breaking his heart, I'll resent him for it eventually. Both of us deserve better than that."
Vito reaches into his jacket and pulls out a set of keys, placing them on the bedside table. The metal catches the weak light from the hallway.
"What's this?" I ask, wiping my eyes.
"Keys to my personal villa in Long Island. It's always been a place for me to think. It's never seen violence, never hosted business. It's just... peaceful."
I stare at the keys like they might bite me. "I don't understand."
"Take a week. Maybe you'll get some time to reflect on what you want there. Marco will drive you in the morning—he's the only one I trust with this. When you know what you want, call me. I'll support whatever you decide."
The kindness in his offer makes my chest ache. After everything—after I ran away, after I cost him a war, after I've been nothing but trouble since the moment I entered his life—he's offering me exactly what I asked for.
"Why?" The question comes out as barely a whisper. "Why are you being so nice to me after everything?"
Vito is quiet for a long moment, and when he speaks, his voice carries a weight I've never heard before.
"Because fifteen years ago, I took in a broken kid who had nowhere else to go.
I gave him purpose, family, a reason to live.
But I never gave him a choice." He looks directly at me, and I see something raw in his expression.
"I won't make that mistake with you. If you choose this life, choose Dante, choose us—it has to be because you want to, not because you feel trapped into it. "
He stands, moving toward the door. "Besides, you're Rina's sister. And Rina taught me that love without choice isn't love at all—it's just another kind of prison."
"Will you tell Dante for me?" I ask, hating how small my voice sounds. "I don't think I can face him right now."
"I'll tell him." Vito pauses at the door. "For what it's worth, Sofia, I think you're exactly what he needs. Someone strong enough to choose him, not just accept him."
After he leaves, I pick up the keys, feeling their weight in my palm. A week. Seven days to figure out if I can love Dante enough to live in his world, or if I need to love him enough to let him go.
For the first time since this whole nightmare began, the choice is completely mine.
I close my eyes and try to imagine what that freedom might feel like.