He’d met me in the darkness that followed, his heart with mine.
Together.
Forever.
We fell together. We fought together. We healed together.
The doctors said we were both lucky. The bullet had gone through his chest, missing his vitals, and passed straight through my shoulder. A fraction of difference and—
“If I were dead and buried And I heard your voice, Beneath the sod My heart of dust Would still rejoice.”
The truth of it hit me. It was so powerful, I wondered if that was how taking my first breath felt—the second I entered this world.
The truth of itandthe water that splashed me in the face.
I turned to the right. My husband stood in waist-deep water, a grin on his face that could send him straight to hell by looks alone. It was so mischievous, and it did things to me that were hard to put into words. There was a freedom in it that mademefeel like I could run wild.
He exploded with laughter at the look on my face.
“You’ve been wanting to do that for years, ah, Macchiavello? Splash me back?”
“Nah, only when I know you’re thinking about things better left in the past, Mrs. Macchiavello.”
It didn’t happen often, but sometimes the memories hit me. Made me appreciate the second chance at life we’d been given.
I didn’t fight going with him, when it was time, but I wanted to live with him. Live with him for as long as I could.
And that was what we’d been doing. Living. We headed south to Florida and decided to buy an orange grove there for our year of planting roots. We worked on the old place every day, sheltering the new seeds we set down in the soil. The town we moved to was struggling. A lot of the businesses were starting to go bust. Rio decided to use it as an investment opportunity. He bought an entire block with an old—you guessed it—firehouse on the corner.
We were protecting our future.
Cerise was dead. Arsenius and the drug maker were dead. Livia was living life with her son. She’d done what we’d asked of her. I felt it was only fair that she be set free, even though she’d always be watched. She’d been through a lot. And even though I resented her for certain things, I was telling her the truth when I’d said I had fond memories of her.
That didn’t mean we would never have to fight again. There were always Bykovs in the world, waiting in the wings to make a move. But if my wishes came true, we’d have the end game Aunt Lola and Uncle Tito had.
Nino and his wife, along with their kids, were living life in the same way. He had some lingering issues from the drug, but his injuries retired him from working for the family. In all honesty, I believe his wife and kids were relieved.
Papà andzioRocco had no issues—none of us did.
After that war, it felt like we were all walking miracles.
The day the term to our agreement was up, that we would stay in one place, Rio lifted me over his shoulder, carted me to the car, and we took off. No bags. Only his wallet and us. I’d set my feet on the dashboard, turned the music up, and went with the flow.
The road trip ended in Texas, at the Hamilton Pool Preserve, where we both had realized that when we looked at each other, we were looking at forever.
Beyond forever.
The look in my husband’s eyes confirmed those thoughts. He gave me a subtle nod.
God, he’s fine.
The sun pulled such a beautiful color from his skin, making his golden-brown eyes pop. His hair was slicked back from the water, showcasing a bone structure most models would pay for. Those well-defined muscles, too. Water ran down them, and I licked my lips.
He placed his hand over his heart, mimicking the beat of the song in the background.
I flew off the float, but not in the smooth move I’d imagined. It came out from underneath me with a squeak, then hit me on the top of my head before it fell backward. I landed in Rio’s arms, though, and that was all that counted.
I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. His laughter was much deeper, and it drew the eye of every female close enough to hear it. I sighed when my hand came to his chest, where his scar was. His leaned down, placing a warm kiss over the scar on my shoulder.
