What he’s capable of.
And I know there's nothing, nothing, he wouldn't do, to keep me safe.
There’s no throne that matters more to him than the couch we curl up on together. No crown he wants more than my hands in his hair when I whisperI love youinto his mouth between kisses.
We shower together most mornings.
Or nights.
Or whenever one of us can’t keep their hands to themselves. Those moments are ours. Not stolen or forced. They're freely given.
Reclaimed.
I’ve reclaimed my body.
My voice.
My name.
My life.
Because of him.
And maybe he doesn’t realize it…
But I’ve done the same for him.
The morningafter Marcello's wedding…
I’m not sure what I expect when I knock. Tension, maybe. Accusation. That familiar brand of brotherly hostility Marcello wears like a second skin whenever I’m near Sophia.
What I don’t expect… is her.
The door swings open, and Violet stands there, soft curls tied back, still radiant even without the wedding dress. A blush blooms on her cheeks. She’s barefoot, coffee mug in hand, and the smile she offers me is warm.
"Raffael," she says, stepping aside. "Come in."
She disarms me without trying.
The suite smells like white peonies and vanilla, the kind of scent that lingers for days. The source is flooding the room—bouquets in crystal vases, wrapped arrangements on every surface, and even the floor. Silver and gold gift boxes line the walls. A few ribbons trail across the floor like they gave up mid-celebration.
"Congratulations again," I say quietly.
"Thank you." Her smile turns a little shy, like she’s still adjusting to this whole new world. "Marcello’s waiting for you in the office. Down the hall, last door."
I nod and move past her, but just as I do, she reaches out, and I feel a light pressure, a brief squeeze of my arm.
"I’m glad you’re making Sophia happy. She deserves it."
It’s nothing. A simple gesture. A few quiet words.
But it hits me harder than I expected. I’m used to being a loner—a shadow operator. No attachments. No shared toothbrush holders or dinner conversations. No one waiting for me to make it home. Sophia changed that. I’m learning what it means to bepart of something. To be seen, not just used. To protect, not just control.
And this? Violet?
That’s something new entirely.
She doesn’t just speak to me as Sophia’s new sister or friend.
