This isn’t just about proving myself anymore.
It’s about protecting everyone I love from the consequences of my failure.
No pressure,I think sarcastically.
We spend the next several hours going over every possible scenario, every type of trial the Families might devise.
Combat situations, strategic challenges, loyalty tests, moral dilemmas.
By the time we finish, my head is spinning with contingency plans and backup strategies.
“I should go,” I say finally, when the sun starts setting outside the windows. “I need to get some sleep before tomorrow.”
“Bianca,” Matteo says as Alessandro and I head toward the door. “Whatever they announce tomorrow night, remember that you have choices. You don’t have to accept a trial that’s designed to be impossible.”
“Yes, I do,” I say simply. “Because backing down now would be worse than failing.”
He nods slowly, understanding what I mean.
In our world, showing fear is more dangerous than showing weakness.
Refusing a challenge is worse than losing it.
“Then make sure you don’t lose,” he says.
Back at the penthouse, we’re both too wired to sleep despite the late hour.
I’m pacing the living room while he sits on the couch with a glass of wine, watching me wear a path in the expensive rug.
“You’re going to drive yourself crazy overthinking this,” he observes.
“I know.” I stop pacing and look at him.
He’s loosened his tie but is still mostly dressed, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his hair slightly mussed from running his hands through it.
Even worried and tired, he’s beautiful. “I just keep thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.”
“Then think about the ways it could go right.”
I raise an eyebrow at him and he shrugs. “Like what?” I ask.
He sets his glass down. “Like the fact that you’ve surprised everyone—including yourself—with what you’re capable of. Like the fact that you’ve passed every challenge they’ve thrown at you so far. Like the fact that you’re not the same person who walked into that first trial.”
He stands and moves toward me, his movements fluid and confident. “You’re more than just Giuseppe and Sophia’s biological daughter. But you’re also something they never were.”
“What’s that?” I whisper, heart drumming a staccato against my chest as Alessandro nears me, his eyes never leaving my face.
“You’re someone who can love and be loved without losing your edge. Someone who can be dangerous without losing her humanity completely.” He reaches me, his hands sliding up to frame my face. “You’re someone worth fighting for.”
The words wrap around me, and I feel tears prick at my eyes.
“I don’t want to lose this,” I whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“You won’t.” His voice is certain, absolute. “We’re stronger together than anything they can throw at us.”
I believe him. Standing here in his arms, feeling solid and grounded for the first time in days, I believe him completely.
Overwhelmed, I lean forward and press my lips against his.
