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When she came to with a cry, I murmured against her ear. “I’ve got you, bella. Always. Forever.”

She moaned, burrowing into my body. “Stay with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised.

Chapter 51 – Isabella

A motley cast gathered around the back patio. This fortress was more of a home than the one that burnt. It wasn’t because of the creature comforts that went into this space—although there was room to build a pool back here next summer. It was because of the men who made up my family.

Soldiers stood in the background watching as I took the oaths of two Made Men, who would leave here tonight as captains. While they wouldn’t replace the history I’d shared with Joseph and Franky, we would create new memories as a core unit.

Turning to Jaxon, who would make the final oath of the night, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. The deep mistrust of the stray was wearing off with each passing day. My men knew I was obsessed with this ruthless killer. And they could see Jaxon’s devotion to me. It went a long way to building trust.

“Jaxon,” I said, holding his gaze as the others watched. “It’s time.”

He stepped forward without hesitation, his eyes never leaving mine. The others shifted, forming a tighter circle around us. This wasn’t just another oath, and everyone present knew it.

He was mine, and I was his.

“You’ve proven yourself more times than I can count,” I said, my voice carrying across the patio. “But tonight, I need your word. Your blood.”

I extended my hand, palm up, the ceremonial blade resting across it. Unlike the others who had sworn tonight, Jaxon didn't hesitate. He took the knife, drawing it across his palm with practiced precision.

Arm extended and palm open, Jaxon knelt.

“My blood for yours,” he said, voice low and resonant. “My life for yours.”

Blood pooled in his palm, dark and gleaming under the patio lights.

“From this moment until my final breath,” Jaxon continued, his eyes never wavering from mine, “I am bound to you, not just by duty or honor, but by choice. Where you go, I follow. Your enemies are mine. Your family is mine to protect.”

While the words solidified his presence in the mob, there was an aspect that was only for me. I placed my hand over his. The warmth of it sent a shiver through me.

I desperately wanted to slice my own hand, to let our blood mingle. But that exchange was for another time and place. Our souls were already bound, and when the dust settled, we would have another ceremony where he would take my last name as we stood before the priest, and we would acknowledge the sacred bond that existed between us.

But I couldn’t help myself right now. I loved this man with my heart, body, and mind.

I mouthed those three little words to him.

His grey eyes heated in response.

“I accept your oath,” I said aloud. “From this day forward, you are one of us. A man made in blood, bound by your promise, and a member of this family.”

The ghost who didn’t belong, my beautiful midnight stray, now had a place in this world. The significance hung heavy between us, a silent understanding that the others could never comprehend. The soldiers behind us erupted in cheers, their voices echoing into the night. Someone opened champagne, and the cork flew into the darkness beyond the patio lights. But I barely heard any of it. My world had narrowed to Jaxon’s face, to the way his lips curved in that subtle smile meant only for me.

He rose from his knees with fluid grace, and I had to resist the urge to pull him against me right there in front of everyone. Instead, I gripped his bloodied hand in mine, feeling the sticky warmth between our palms.

“Welcome to the Moretti Famiglia,” I said, loud enough for the others to hear.

Vincenzo stepped forward with a clean towel, breaking the spell. Jaxon wrapped his hand, his movements efficient and controlled, but I caught the slight tremble.

This simple action held a profound weight for him.

The crowd began to break into smaller clusters of conversation. Glasses clinked, laughter punctuated the night air. I caught Jaxon’s eye and tilted my head slightly toward the garden path that wound away from the patio lights.

Without a word, he understood. We slipped away from the celebration, our departure barely noticed as Vincenzo loudly proposed another toast behind us. The sounds of revelry faded with each step we took into the darkness, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chorus of night insects.

“Thank you, bella,” Jaxon said softly as we rounded a bend in the path, shielded now by a row of tall oak trees.