Chapter 33
Sophie
Xavier fell to his knees before Dominic Strata had even cleared the last step of the porch.
His head buried in his hands, stripped right down to the bone.
The gun scattered across the pristine floor, clattering into the bag he was desperately trying to shove into my hands to ensure I made it out of here alive.
He couldn’t have known that the choice was taken from us long ago. Just like I couldn’t have known that deciding to defend myself would lead me back to this starting point.
Powerless.
As Strata’s vehicles flee from the scene unharmed, I back into the staircase pillar, reaching for something to keep me on my feet. One of us has to stay upright. Find a way out of this.
One hour.
There’s no choice.
Xavier knows it, deep down. So do I. In no world is my life more important than hers. An innocent child, waiting for her father to come save her.
I can accept that.
What I can’t accept is this—this sick game he’s waging on my husband. A choice that Dominic knows is a worse fate than death.
Dante climbs the porch, moving slowly when he sees how his friend—his brother—is collapsing in on himself.
I can’t bear it.
Not after this night, what I’ve done. What they’ve done.
“We need to get out of here. They’ll be coming?—”
“No one is coming,” I say for Xavier, climbing the stairs one weak step at a time. “We’re going to them.”
“Sophie, wait. What the fuck is going on?”
As Dante shakes Xavier, I retreat to the bedroom, my gaze drawn to the empty liquor bottle on the table. The bedsheet draped by the door serves as a stark reminder of the nightmare that led me here.
To the final night of my life.
At least I got to hurt them… take some with me.
Not a comfort, but it’s something.
And as Isabella’s face flashes in my mind, I’m relieved that my death will mean something. Because I’ll be damned before I ever let them touch me again.
As I rinse blood off my face and clear the foul taste from my mouth, Bo steps in, his gaunt expression overwhelmed with disbelief. It’s clear that Xavier has somehow spoken, revealing the grim reality that awaits us. I glance at the clock.
55 minutes left.
“You need to get your brother and Mimi on a plane right now. Tell Zeke what’s happened.” My eyes widen, realizing. “ Courtney .”
“I’ve already called her. She’s packing.”
My vision is so clouded that I can barely make him out. Bo crosses the room and pulls me in. Apologies pour out of me. “I’m… I'm so sorry. For not seeing who he was. For coming here. I’ve killed us. I’ve killed us .”
“No. ”
“Isabella,” I choke out. “If anything happens to her…”
“It won’t. Xavier would never let it. Not to either of you.”
“He doesn’t have the choice.”
“Yes, he does.”
“I’ll never let him choose me,” I snap. “That girl is his flesh and blood. She’s part of him. She is the only innocent one here, and she needs her father. If they’re willing to let him go, he has to take the chance.”
“I'm not giving up?—”
“You’re getting on that plane too.”
“ No .”
“They will kill you the moment you set foot in that place. They know you’re loyal. No, you have to make sure everyone gets out safely. That’s the only way you can help us.” He’s not listening . “Bo. Do you hear me?”
Dread spills from his eyes. “Don’t make me do this.”
“If you give a damn about me, you’ll make sure Xavier boards that plane, too.” My lips quiver. “He’s never known freedom, Bo.”
“You think he’d be able to go on without you?”
“You make sure he does. Keep him breathing. Isabella will give him a reason to live.”
“And you?”
I approach the vanity, my hands trembling as I pull open the drawer, uneasily grabbing the plastic casing that clutches a capsule I took from the armory the day after the attack in the yard. Stuffing certain death into my pocket, blood stiffening the denim, I turn to Bo. “I’ll figure a way out.”
It’s not a lie. Not completely.
The door pushes open.
Bo turns to see who’s there… I don’t.
As our friend withdraws from the room, the door creaks shut and clicks, enveloping us in silence. A heavy weight settles in my chest, a desperate attempt to seal off my heart. To forget all the dreams I once held dear, all the visions of us that filled my mind.
I’m quickly constructing a fortress, brick by painful brick, to prepare myself to face the man I love.
Nothing can prepare me for what I see.
Xavier Marcello without hope.
“I don’t need an hour,” he says.
I nod, relieved to hear it. “Neither do I.”
For a home I never wanted, my eyes do linger on the few precious items I loved.
The books that Courtney let me read to her, knowing how much I needed their escape.
Remnants of our past, carefully preserved by Xavier during my absence.
Our many photographs. Snapshots of two people deeply in love.
Some taken five years ago, others just yesterday, all of it so different from the aching silence we’re barely existing in now.
Out of all the things in this room, he is what I need to remember.
Xavier extends his arm, fingers flaring when I hesitate to place my hand in his, as if it pains him to think I'm afraid of him.
I'm not. I could never be. He pulls me the rest of the way, right up to him, his index finger tilting my head to meet his gaze, and despite the lifelessness in his eyes, his mouth claims mine with devastating force.
Hard and solid, meant to brand me with its presence.
I don’t know how I manage to smile or find comfort in the softness of his lips as they drift over mine, slower and slower, lingering only to keep us connected. To freeze us in a moment we can remember. His eyes are squeezed shut when my fingertips graze his pale face.
“Don’t think about it. Let’s go.”
Xavier nods, his jaw tightly clenched, struggling to contain whatever words are pulsing behind his lips. Lacing our fingers together, I switch off the bedroom light, the faint glow of our past flickering out as we step into darkness .
Bo and Dante are waiting by the cars, looking on the verge of vomiting, sickened by the years of fighting for it all to come to this.
Dante sobs in my arms as I approach him, somehow mustering the strength to hold it together better than he does.
He shakes his head, lost for words, as I gently pull away and give him a reassuring nod.
Bo leans in closer, whispering to my husband.
Xavier’s nod of agreement is slow and mechanical. A marionette operating without a soul.
And I don’t even think it’s a front.
I don’t think he’s capable of a mask anymore.
Bo stares at what’s left of the warzone we unleashed tonight, shaking his head and pressing a hand to his mouth, struggling to hold himself together. “All this for fucking nothing.”
“Not nothing,” I whisper. “ Not nothing.”
Dante looks ready to rip the motor right out of this vehicle to keep us from going. “Promise me you’ll find a way out of there, Sophie. They didn’t go through all this trouble to kill you. It’s your father. You’re useful to him. You have skills. Tell him what I taught you.”
“One lesson in coding isn’t going to convince him.”
“Then you lie through your goddamn teeth, you hear me? These people don’t kill those who have a purpose to them.”
“Everything I learned, I learned from that man, Dante.”
Every time I remember it, I’m hit by a freight train.
“Just tell me you’ll find a way. I'm not letting you get into that car until you say it!” Dante shouts, his usually playful eyes so severe. Fear really does take a heavy toll.
Despite knowing better, I nod for them. My gaze shifts to my husband, who is focused on the road instead of any of us. For him . “I’ll find a way.”
“We need to go,” Xavier says, breaking the tension.
Dante drapes his arm over my shoulder, resting his heavy head on mine as he walks me to the car. Xavier trails behind us, drilling information into Bo. “Get Courtney on that plane at all costs. Everything you need is in the bag. Don’t wait.”
“We’ll stay at Dante’s until it’s time to go. The airport is too risky to linger at. Plus, Dante’s place has a fire escape just in case something happens.”
Xavier agrees with a nod. “I bought some land a month ago in Thailand. Near Phuket. You’ll find the deeds and directions on how to get there in the bag.”
“You bought land? In Thailand?” Bo asks. “ Why ?”
Xavier deliberately keeps his gaze fixed on the ground as he says, “In case we had to run again.”
My voice is caught in my throat as I force a smile at Dante, sliding into the passenger seat, sinking into the leather. The air has dropped several degrees since we’ve been standing here.
I hope Isabella isn’t cold. Or scared.
My eyes close at the sudden thought, struck by my love for a child that isn’t even mine.
As Xavier settles into the driver’s seat, I hear Dante scoff and turn away, unable to watch us leave.
“Nah. This isn’t happening.”
Bo taps on my window with his knuckles. He nudges my chin with his hand when the barrier is lowered, smiling softly. The affection is too much—far too much. “Look at me.”
Breathe .
When he has my eyes, he says, “You don’t deserve this. You didn’t do this to anyone. Isabella was kidnapped, and you had no part in that… You hear me?”
“I killed?—”
“You didn’t even know what was happening.”
“If I hadn’t, you would have had enough men to?—”
Xavier is the one who speaks this time; his answer is cold, complex, and resilient. “Vito was bait, Sophie. He was meant to disarm us. And he succeeded. They used our hate and our pain to get through the door, and I let them. I brought him in. If anyone is to blame, it’s me.”
“Since we’re having a goddamn pity party, I'm to blame for not checking the wire,” Bo says. “And Dante’s to blame for not closing the gates before Strata and his men could get onto the property.”
Xavier looks up at his friend, who places his arms on the window. “Quit it.”
Bo forces a weary smile. “Just trying to feel included.”