EPILOGUE
CARA
SIX MONTHS LATER….
It was amazing what time could do, how it could change you if you had the right environment and enough support and love around you to facilitate it. I felt like a different person sometimes; I had changed so much. It had been a long process, tough, and far from smooth sailing, but I had changed.
Not all at once. It had happened in stages, some messier than others. At first there had still been so much anxiety and fear. So many tears and panicked moments that came from nowhere. The trauma had been so fresh, the marks and scars on my body so apparent and raw.
And Dante. He had come home after a week of us all basically holding him prisoner in that hospital, but it took so much longer for his wounds to heal, and his bruises to fade.
To start with, I often found myself hurtling away from him so I could break down in privacy at how hurt he was.
I blamed myself until it almost suffocated me, hated myself for what I had done to my family.
Rafe’s recovery only added to that. He was shot because of me, and every time he struggled to breathe, or almost choked coughing, I drowned in guilt again.
In the end Cal had forced me to see a new counsellor, this one he visited and fully vetted himself.
He’d had to all but drag me to the first appointment in the city, but in the first hour I found some rapport with my new therapist – Dr. Hoy.
She was an older woman, who had unending patience and never made me feel small the way the first therapist had.
She taught me ways to handle my anxiety, talked through my guilt with me over and over until I finally started to realise how misplaced it all was.
I still saw her once a week, and I knew we had a ways to go until every twisted thought and emotion in my head was addressed, but I was doing the work and it felt like it was paying off.
I got stronger. Calmer. I found balance somewhere between waking up without screams and drenched in my own sweat, and falling asleep without fearing my own mind. I had learned to control my anxiety so much more masterfully, and I’d started to understand what it meant to feel safe in my own head.
Of course, I hadn’t done it alone. My men had been there with me every step of the way, surrounding me, supporting me, and putting me back together in the times I was too exhausted or shaken to do it alone.
They had loved me despite the hellish rollercoaster ride my mind had taken me on, and they had always been there to catch me and hold me tight when I needed them to.
I wasn’t fully healed. I was unsure that I ever could be, considering the life I had lived.
There were scars within me, that could never be repaired or hidden.
Nightmares still came occasionally and there were still triggers that could take me down unexpectedly in a second, but I was stronger.
It wasn’t the shaky, glued together version of strength I had wrapped around myself in Chicago to survive either.
This strength was new, and solid. It was built on determination, a ton of work, and so much love.
I felt braver, better able to face the world head on.
I’d built a life for myself, with my family and my guys. I’d started online classes to get some qualifications, and I also volunteered three times a week at the local library. It was new and shaky, but it was the start of me finding my feet and taking the next steps in my future.
I was happy. That was the biggest change. It had felt so foreign at first, to just be happy without darkness and fear lurking behind it, but I adjusted, and I settled into it, feeling safe and loved with Arran, Cal, Dio, and Dante.
Rafe was a part of our lives again, his issues soothed after him seeing how much my guys cared for me, for himself.
The tension was gone and our family was back, stronger than ever.
It was also legitimate now too. Rafe had handed off the docks and the last of the mafia life to Kean, just as planned five months ago.
Now my brother was nothing but a legitimate, successful business owner, and my men worked regular jobs right alongside him. Every time I thought that, I smiled a little at knowing how much Marcello would be turning in his grave to know his empire was gone.
We came back from Nice on a grey London afternoon, the sky dark and dingy, low clouds pressing over Kensington in a way that was so familiar, it was comforting.
I’d had the holiday of a lifetime in France, staying in the villa Rafe owned in the mountains overlooking Monaco. The guys had surprised me with the trip, and I’d been so excited.
It had been exactly what we needed. Two weeks in the sun, relaxing without any pressure from work or studies. Just the five of us, together, I already couldn’t wait for us to take our next trip!
The drive from the airport was loud in the way only the five of us could make it - Arran talking nonsense in the front seat just to amuse, or maybe wind his brother up, Cal laughing heartily, and giving as good as he got, Dio cursing at every red light, like they had a vendetta against him, and Dante pretending he wasn’t listening, while very clearly listening to every word.
I sat between Cal and Dante in the back, my hand threaded loosely through Dante’s. His grip was steady, grounding without being restrictive. Arran kept glancing at me in the mirror like he was checking I was still real.
“I’m fine,” I said eventually, because I knew he was going to ask.
That hadn’t changed no matter how much better I got.
My men always checked in with me, and watched me closely, attentive to my every need or mood change.
Maybe it would annoy some people, but I found it comforting, to know they were always there.
I no longer feared being left alone. I knew my family would never leave me.
“Didnae ask,” Arran replied, grinning as he turned to look at me over his shoulder fully. “Just admirin’ the love of my life, looking perfectly peaceful right now.”
“She’s tired,” Dante snorted.
“I am,” I admitted.
“Almost there, Piccola,” Dio assured me, while reaching back without looking, to take my hand in his, almost contorting his arm to do so.
“We should order food when we get home. Proper food. Not whatever Arran considers edible,” Cal announced, and I glanced up at him, from where my head was resting against his shoulder.
“Hey,” Arran said, offended. “My cookin’s improved.”
“I’d say the improvement is negligible, ” Dio cut in flatly, making me laugh.
When we turned into Kensington, the house looked the same at first—grand, imposing, familiar. Home. It was home, and even after the amazing trip we’d had, I was happy to be back there. That place, just like my guys, my brother, Terza, and my therapy, was a part of my healing.
Rafe was waiting for us when we all walked inside. He was leaning against the hallway wall like he’d been waiting for us.
He was dressed in jeans and a black polo t-shirt, his suits, his armour, now only donned to go into the office.
He had relaxed a lot, now the pressure of being a mafia boss had been taken from his shoulders.
He laughed more, slept more, and recently, he’d started dating.
He had built a new life for himself too, but he had made it look so much easier than I had found it.
It had taken months for him to get back to full strength, but his determination had never faltered, and now he was back to full health, maybe even stronger.
He’d rebuilt his entire life from the ground up, and he had changed in so many ways.
He was still controlled, and cautious. Still very much in command of his business and his employees, and dedicated to his career, but the masks were gone, He got to be himself outside of the business now, and I had gotten a version of my brother I wasn’t sure I had ever really known before.
It was like he had finally been allowed to exhale, and in doing so, he had found some peace he never allowed himself to have before.
“Rafe!” I cried happily as I dropped my purse inside the door and crossed the hall to him.
“Finally,” he said as I landed in his arms and he embraced me tightly. “I was starting to think you’d run off to France permanently.”
“Dinnae pretend the idea didnae appeal to ye,” Arran replied with a smirk.
“Tempting, but I prefer you all within shouting distance.” Rafe’s mouth twitched and I beamed up at him. It never failed to make me happy, seeing him relaxed like that.
“Are you alright, Gioia?” he asked. His eyes met mine, and softened in the way they never did for anyone else.
I nodded eagerly, a bright smile on my face.
I knew I had a sun tan from sunbathing on the beautiful beach Dio hired out for us privately, in Nice, and I had gained a little weight recently too, my appetite improving the more my anxiety receded.
I knew what he saw when he looked at me. I was healthy, glowing, and happy.
“Good,” he said simply, a small smile tipping up his lips.
“Everything alright here?” Dio asked as he appeared at Rafe’s side and slapped him on the back affectionately.
He’d been good on holiday, not looking at work emails, or discussing business when we called my brother, but I knew he was itching to dive back in by now. Two weeks away from his job had him antsy to take back control.
“All under control,” Rafe nodded.
“We should go and unpack,” Cal suggested as he started gathering our luggage which my security team were bringing to the door from the car.
My security team had been to France with us too.
It consisted of four members - three men and a woman.
At first it had been uncomfortable having them trail me everywhere I went, and in the house with me when no one else was home.
They worked in two man shifts, and switched out, so there was always two of them with me.