Every eye in the room turns to Joe DiLorenzo.
Serena’s brother stands near the wall, a smoking pistol in his hand.His expression is carved from stone, but his dark eyes burn with something I can’t quite identify.Grief?Rage?A mix?
“Joe.”Dave’s voice is carefully controlled.“Explain yourself.”
“He was bluffing.”Joe holsters his weapon.“My father was a sleazy son of a bitch who would do anything to save his own skin.He didn’t know Dracul’s boss.Nobody does.We’ve been digging in every rathole, turning every fucking stone for almost two years.There’s no lead.Nobody has ever seen him.He was stalling, trying to negotiate his way out of a death sentence with information he didn’t have.”
The room processes this in stunned silence.
“You can’t know that,” Tommy says slowly.“He might have had direct contact?—”
“I know my father, how he operated.”Joe’s jaw tightens.“When he had leverage, he used it immediately.He didn’t wait until he was about to die to play his trump card.If he’d really known who killed Martha Boyle, he would’ve used that information before he was captured to protect himself.”He looks at my father.“I’m sorry, Jack.But Giovanni didn’t have the answer you’re seeking.He was just being Giovanni until the very end.”
Jack stares at Giovanni’s body for a long moment.When he speaks, his voice is hollow.“The sentence has been carried out.This tribunal is adjourned.”
The room begins to empty slowly, representatives filing out in clusters, murmuring among themselves.Serena hasn’t moved.She’s staring at her father’s body, her face absolutely expressionless.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and guide her toward the door.“Come on,álainn.You don’t need to stay for this.”
She lets me guide her out of the room, away from the blood and the politics and the ghosts of the past.
We end up on the rooftop terrace of Syndicate headquarters, the winter wind cutting through our clothes.Serena doesn’t seem to notice the cold.She stands at the railing, staring out at Boston’s skyline, and I stand beside her in silence.
Some moments don’t need words.
“I thought I’d feel different,” she says finally.“I thought watching him die would bring some closure.Instead, I feel empty.”
“That’s normal.”I move closer, wrapping my arms around her from behind.“Grief doesn’t follow logic, even when you’re grieving someone who hurt you.”
“He was my father, despite everything.”Her voice breaks.“He held my hand at my mother’s funeral.He used to tell me I was the most brilliant person he’d ever known.”She shudders.“But he also sold women and children into slavery.How do I reconcile those two people?”
“Maybe you don’t have to.”I press a kiss to her temple.“You can mourn the father you loved while being grateful the monster is gone.Grief is complicated enough to hold both truths at once.”
She turns in my arms, burying her face in my chest.Her tears soak through my shirt, her body shakes with sobs.
I hold her tighter and let her fall apart.
This is what real love is.Not just the romance and the passion.It’s standing on a cold rooftop while the woman you love grieves the father who betrayed her.It’s being strong when she can’t be.Choosing to stay through the darkness, trusting that light will come eventually.
I murmur against her hair, “I love you, Serena.And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it.”
She pulls back, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes and tearstained cheeks.She’s never been more beautiful.
“I love you too,” she whispers.“Even when I was terrified of what loving you might cost me.I think I’ve loved you for longer than I want to admit.”
I kiss her then, soft and sweet, tasting salt and sorrow and sweet hope.
Tomorrow, we’ll face whatever comes next.The fallout from Giovanni’s death.The search for the mysterious figure behind Dracul.The ongoing work of dismantling what’s left of the trafficking operation.
But tonight, we have this.Each other.A future we’re building together, one choice at a time.
At last, a future worth fighting for.
35
Serena
Three days have passed since my father’s trial.Three days since Joe put a bullet through Giovanni DiLorenzo’s forehead.Three days since I stood on that rooftop with Shelby and let myself fall apart in his arms.
