Second Epilogue
SECOND EPILOGUE
Rocco, Two Months Later
I kiss Cas softly on the temple, careful not to disturb her. One hand rests on the swell of her belly, the baby growing inside her. She murmurs something in her sleep, shifting slightly, protective even in dreams. It guts me, leaving them like this, but the call I got minutes ago left me no choice.
“Tobia Natali is dead,” I whisper into her hair.
Her eyes flicker open, fogged with sleep but sharp in an instant. “The Prince’s Hand?”
I nod. “Harlem’s about to fracture. I need to be at the table to assess the damage before someone else tries to make a move.”
Cas reaches for my wrist. “Be careful.”
“I always am.” But we both know I can't promise to stay safe. Even when I’m careful, this life is still a loaded gun.
I press one last kiss to her forehead and slip out.
Martino’s already waiting by the car, leaning against the hood like it’s just another night. But it’s not.
We don’t speak until we’re on the road, Brooklyn lights cutting through the dark. The streets look calm, but I know better.
“You’re quiet,” Martino says, glancing at me in the rearview.
I stare out the window, weighing the thought that’s been stalking me for months.
“What if I stepped down?”
His grip on the steering wheel tightens. “You’re serious?”
I nod once.
“No Don walks away clean,” he says. “Not in this life.”
“There's always a first.”
“The Guild won’t like it. Your enemies won’t believe it. The city smells weakness fast.”
I clench my jaw. “And what about my family? I'm about to get married. Cas? The baby? You think I’m going to drag them through decades of this shit?”
Martino exhales through his nose. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never had this much to lose.”
We hit a red light, and he turns slightly toward me. “What are you saying? You hand it over? To who?”
“That’s the problem.” I rub the tension from the back of my neck. “I built this from ashes. Took it from my father’s cold hands. And now… it feels like a noose around my neck.”
Martino studies me for a long beat. “You really thinking about walking away?”
I glance at him. “Would you blame me if I did?”
“No,” he admits. “But I’d say you’re walking into a different kind of war.”
The silence after that weighs heavily.
Finally, he says, “So who would you trust to hold the reins?”
I look back out the window, watching the city slide by like a slow-moving threat.
“This conversation stays between us,” I say.
“Always.”
I let the silence stretch, the weight of the question pressing against my chest. There aren’t many men I’d trust. Fewer still who could command loyalty and fear in equal measure. Most would crumble under the pressure or bleed out before they even claimed the chair.
But there’s one—the closest person I have to a brother. The Guild runs through his veins as much as it runs through mine. Ruthless, loyal, dangerous as hell.
I don’t say it out loud, but the answer is already carved into my bones.
There's only one choice.
Teo Vitale.
Loved this? Then read Teo and Isabella’s story next in Revenge & Ruin: An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance