Chapter 37
Xavier
With each bump and bend in the unpaved road, the weathered bus rattles as if a loose bolt might finally cause it to fall apart, scattering us into the rugged terrain we’ve been journeying through for the past two hours.
In New York, we were getting ready for a season change.
Here, the humidity envelops everything, clinging to summer indefinitely.
My eyes scan the foreign landscape beyond the smudged windows because if I don’t, I’ll blow our cover. Shout for help. Threaten every last person on this bus until I find someone who can help my wife.
Sophie’s head thumps harder against my chest with every inevitable bump in our path, each abrupt stop, hanging in a way that shows she has no control over any part of her body anymore.
Concealed by her jacket, my hand is stained red from pressing into her stomach, applying firm pressure to where she has been bleeding.
We do what it takes to survive. That is especially clear now as Sophie winces with each jolt from the vehicle, struggling to endure a reopened wound.
It could’ve happened at the airport. Or as we left the pier in Phuket, crossing the water by ferry boat. It could have happened as we raced to catch the last bus of the night. Even this bus vaulting us out of our seats could have stretched the stitches beyond repair.
I wouldn’t know when it happened because she didn’t tell me. Not a single complaint until I felt her head drop onto my shoulder. Her face was paler than I felt comfortable with. I knew it wasn’t just exhaustion. And as I parted her jacket, there it was—blood staining her shirt.
“We’re almost there,” I reassure her.
She nods, her breaths weak and ragged.
Several decisions led me to choose this place—isolation in paradise. The largest one being that warm weather might help Sophie forget what it’s like to be cold. While Phuket is filled with tourists, the village of Koh Yao Noi is primarily inhabited by locals.
I needed to find a home where we wouldn’t be discovered, where the enemies I had left wouldn’t think to look. Because even though Strata is dead—Vito, too—there are others who would hear my name and come for us. If I must seclude my family from the world, it has to be worth it.
As we step off the bus and stumble through a small village that is the opposite of everything we’ve ever known, absorbing the vibrant green hills in the distance, I find it so damn hard to rationalize that we are nearing the end of this. God-willing.
Supporting all of her weight with mine, I grapple with the higher power I forsook four years ago, needing strength to face the unknown.
Let this be the right decision.
Dio, lasciaci riposare. Let us rest.
Every rooftop in the village gleams in a different shade.
Blue. Teal. Orange. White.
The streets are lined with dirt bikes and open-air clothing and food stalls. The sun beats down on us relentlessly, visibly affecting the woman clinging to my body for support.
No one will ever understand what she did to get here.
“You need a doctor.”
“I’ll be fine. Just get me home.” Sophie’s eyes squeeze shut, stifling a whimper as I urge her onto a bench to inspect her stomach. “Please, Xavier.”
A few stitches did indeed break, causing the bleed, but for the most part, they are still intact. Sophie traces the lines of concern on my face, smoothing them out until I’m helplessly gazing up at her, willing to do just about anything she wants.
“We’ll be on a motorbike, Sophie. Not a car.”
“I can handle it.”
“I don’t like it.”
She smiles weakly when I swipe away the sweat dripping past her temples. “I’ve been through worse than this. This’ll be a piece of cake.”
There’s no way to argue that. No way at all.
Even as weak as she is, she leans in when I kiss her, smiling through the pain as I lift her from the bench, trusting her.
“Yours are still fine?” Sophie asks, her face pressed into my chest.
“Yes.” In truth, I have no idea. I can’t tell any point of pain from another anymore. The effects of what happened in that warehouse are everywhere. In my arms. My feet. My neck.
A warm shower will be a relief.
After I’ve bought a used motorcycle to take us around the mountain, I jot down the address of our new home on the receipt and pass it to the clerk. Despite the definite gaps in our conversation, I somehow get the information I need.
It’s a straight shot through the mountain. Then, a right at a bungalow with a red door. Through the palms, which will spit you out at the other end of the island.
Initially, the roads stretch out before us with gentle, winding bends, but as we venture deeper into the mountains, the terrain begins to slope upward, and the rainforest surrounds us overhead, forming a lush canopy.
Tall trees are clustered together, effectively blocking out the sun, letting only occasional rays of light flicker across the pavement when the breeze stirs their leaves.
With Sophie securely between my arms, I follow the path, eager to conquer the more challenging ridges faster for her sake. I glance down occasionally to ensure her eyes stay open.
But they aren’t just open. She’s smiling.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
She seems to be soaking it all in—the untamed wilderness around us, the coconuts scattered across the narrow road, the hornbills gracefully gliding beneath the lush tree canopies.
The asphalt disappears as we make a right at the bungalow mentioned by the clerk. Palm trees sway on both sides of the path, and suddenly, there’s salt in the air.
My head has begun to pound due to the thundering in my chest. It’s all overwhelming—the sight of Sophie in paradise, the realization that with every mile I drive, I'm getting closer to my baby girl. Everything important is on this island, almost within my reach.
The rainforest stretches endlessly, even as we near the coastline. Our path narrows, the motor bike kicking up dirt and pebbles that coat our boots. The sun is shining from the highest point of the sky, as vast as the ocean it illuminates.
Only I know when we’ve reached the house.
My throat tightens with anticipation as I catch sight of it, sensing Sophie’s tension mirroring my own as I veer off the road.
The driveway leads us to a stilted bungalow poised at the water’s edge.
Waves crash against those pillars, surging toward the sandy shore.
The home seamlessly blends into the wilderness, hidden among a maze of tropical mangroves .
As soon as my boots hit the sand and the rumbling engine quiets, we are completely still, stunned speechless.
Four years ago, we envisioned this moment. We escaped the lives we knew in hopes of reaching it, yet were pulled back by our heels, forced to pay for daring to dream.
Such an insignificant thing to someone else is a goddamn gut punch to me. We fucking bled to get here. I’ve lost count of the scars.
Climbing off the motorcycle, we both stumble a few steps, taking it all in. Sophie makes a slow turn and loses her footing. She’s clutching her side when I catch her waist, looking down to realize that it wasn’t pain that nearly sent her to the ground.
It was this.
Tears spill from her wide eyes. “Xavier…”
We hear a joyous laugh that can only come from a child. Isabella’s high-pitched giggle pierces the air, stopping us in our tracks. As I watch her skip between the tangled roots of the mangroves, her hair shimmering in the golden sunlight, tears well up in my eyes as well.
Bo trails just a few steps behind her. “Izzy, slow down!”
“ Daddy !”
Isabella sprints toward us, bridging the distance that felt just out of reach. Before I realize it, I am running to her, my knees sinking into the wet sand as she crashes into me, crying my name.
I couldn’t hold her on that goddamn rooftop. Kiss her. Tell her I'm sorry I won’t be there to watch her grow. I had reconciled myself with that when Dominic Strata told me I’d have to choose between the two loves of my life. There was no way that was going to happen.
Death was the better option.
I can still clearly see Vito Marin tearing into me, my mind warping as it braced for a gruesome end. The holes hidden beneath my bandaged hands ache with remembrance .
I didn’t feel relief when I saw Sophie there. I was goddamn horrified.
She couldn’t have come.
She should have been on a plane.
I keep hearing what she said to me, what she made damn sure I grasped.
I'm not leaving. I will never leave you.
They will kill me at your feet before I let them take you.
To hold my daughter is a blessing.
To be loved by such a woman is a miracle .
Isabella stays in my arms, squeezing the breath out of my throat as I stand, allowing years of pain to wash away while I watch Bo hug Sophie, his eyes wide with disbelief.
I press a kiss to Isabella’s cheek, gently running my fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry. Tesoro, I’m so sorry.”
I apologize for countless reasons: for the loss of her mother and stepfather, taken from her in a way I can never comprehend, and for taking her away from everything she has ever known. “I’m here. I’ll never leave you again.”
As the front door swings open, Mimi emerges onto the porch, her relaxed expression shifting to shock upon seeing us. “Oh God! Dante!”
Nothing will make me let go of Isabella. Mimi drags me down to hug me, joining in on the tears. When Dante runs out, followed by Zeke and his family, I’m at a loss for words.
Dante nearly knocks Sophie to the ground, only to be scolded by Bo, who points to her injured stomach. Zeke shakes my shoulders, grinning. “What the absolute hell , man.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Courtney on the porch, clutching the pillar as she kneels, watching Sophie rush toward her, even though she can hardly move.
These people should hate us.
Zeke, Dante, Bo… My brothers who never abandoned me, despite all the times I begged them to .
But they embrace us.
I’ll protect them for the rest of their lives to thank them for it.
“Come inside,” Dante says. “See your home.”
Home. If I know one thing, home isn’t this house. It’s the woman who fought like hell to get me here.
Sophie strains to stand, wiping her face as I meet her on the stairs that creak under my weight. I’ll have to fix those.
Her sapphire eyes radiate fear as she reaches out to tame Isabella’s tousled hair, brushing away her tears. “I’ve missed you, Izzy. I'm so sorry I left you.”
“You found Daddy.”
Sophie nods, choking back tears. “I told you I would.”
My eyes close. I told you I would. I press my lips against Izzy’s head to conceal everything that might pour out of me.
Sophie smiles— really smiles at her. And it’s a fucking beautiful sight. Nothing in this world beats it. Paradise is no match for what bliss looks like on my wife. Isabella must see in Sophie what I see because she shifts out of my grasp, reaching her arms toward her.
Despite everyone else trying to stop her, believing she isn’t capable of carrying Isabella’s weight, Sophie takes her from my arms and walks into the house.
Sophie Marcello is capable of anything.
She is salvation.
She is my only chance at redemption.
A woman I loved before I understood what that was.
She is my home.