Chapter 39 Vincenzo
Vincenzo
He doesn’t realize I gave up my crown the second I chose him over legacy, over the plan carved into me since the day I could walk in tailored shoes and nod when my father snapped his fingers—that’s when I abdicated.
My father won’t ask questions again. He’ll see the name I dragged into our bed again and set fire to every last piece of me that dared to love it.
But fuck, I do.
I love him in the quiet way a storm builds—silent, invisible, until the first crack splits the sky.
I love him in the way I shouldn’t, in the way that makes no sense and makes all the sense in the world.
In the way that terrifies me because it feels like fate, even though I’ve never believed in anything except power, control, and the weight of a gun in my hand.