But I have one more thing to do before I can rest.
The hallway outside the saferoom is one place still untouched in the house, though most of the main floor will need major remodeling.
I'll hire a team to come help Marta get things cleaned up, but I'm more concerned with making sure this doesn’t affect Sofia.
The back stairwell was blessedly untouched.
Marta can take her up to her room that way.
When I get to the saferoom door, I enter the code with trembling fingers.
The lock disengages with a mechanical hiss, and the door swings open.
Angelica sits on the single bed with Sofia in her lap, both of them huddled against the far wall.
Marta stands near them with her hands clasped in front of her and two of my guards flank the door, their rifles lowered but ready.
My family is the most beautiful sight I've seen in weeks, and I hold my hands out as Sofia sees me first.
Her eyes widen, and she scrambles out of Angelica's arms, running toward me on wobbly legs.
"Papa!"
I crouch down and catch her as she crashes into me.
The impact sends a jolt of pain through my shoulder, but I don't care.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close.
I can see she's been crying—they all have. But it's over.
"I'm here,Piccola," I murmur into her hair. "I'm here."
She clings to me like she's terrified and starts crying again. "I heard the fireworks. They were so loud."
"I know,Piccola, but they're over now."
I smooth my hand down the back of her head and kiss her cheek through a mass of curls stuck there by her tears.
Angelica stands slowly.
Her face is pale and streaked with tears.
Her eyes move over me, taking in the blood on my shirt, the torn fabric, the exhaustion etched into every line of my face.
When our eyes meet, hers brim with relief and affection.
"Is it over?" she asks quietly as I look up at her.
"It's over." I lift Sofia and move toward her. "Antonelli's dead. His men are scattered. Rome is ours again."
Her knees buckle slightly, and I reach out with my free arm to steady her.
She presses her hand against my chest, her fingers trembling.
"You're bleeding," she says.
"It's not bad, just a graze."
