“I know.” I turn my hand in his grip, lacing our fingers together properly. “I’m not naive. I knew what you were when I decided to kill you.”
His laugh is soft. “And yet here we are.”
“Yeah.” I look down at our joined hands. His is larger, scarred, steady. Mine is smaller, bloodied, still trembling with aftershocks I can’t control. “Here we are.”
We fall back into silence, and I find myself staring out the window again. But the quiet only makes room for the doubt I’ve been swallowing down about Enzo to creep back up. I know I shouldn’t pay mind to the words of a dead man, but Sokolov knew exactly where to stick the knife. Right in the gap between what I want to believe and what I’m terrified might be true.
And now the question I’ve been too afraid to ask sits in my throat like broken glass. The answer might shatter whatever fragile thing we’re building here. But I know I’ll never breathe easy until I ask.
So I do.
“The evidence you showed Sokolov. The transfer logs. The bank records. Were they real?”
I feel him go still beside me.
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
I turn to look at him. His face is half-lit by passing streetlights, impossible to read. “And if I need to see it for myself? Every document, every trail, everything you have on Viktor and Marco?”
“Then I’ll give you access.” The answer comes without a breath of hesitation. “Tonight, if you want. Tomorrow. Whenever you’re ready.” He gives my hand a little squeeze. “I have nothing to hide from you, Luca.”
I want to believe him. I think I do believe him—mostly. But there’s a part of me that might never be fully certain. A part that will always wonder if I chose the right man to trust.
Maybe that’s just what trust is. Choosing anyway, even when you can’t be sure.
I exhale slowly, feeling something settle in my chest. Peace with the uncertainty.
“Okay,” I say quietly and stare out the window again.
Somewhere out there is my old life—my apartment, my few belongings, the job I walked away from. The person I was before I decided revenge was worth dying for.
That person feels distant now. Like someone I used to know in another life.
“What happens next?” I ask. “With the other families. When they find out about Viktor.”
“I present the evidence. Show them he was operating without my knowledge. Offer restitution for what he stole from joint operations.” Enzo’s jaw tightens. “Some will accept it. Others will use it as an excuse to test me, see if I’m weak.”
“Are you?”
He looks at me, and the steel in his eyes makes my breath catch, the crime boss replacing the man who was kissing my knuckles just a moment ago. “No. And anyone who thinks otherwise will learn quickly.”
“Will they come after me? To get to you?”
“They’ll try.” His hand tightens on mine. “Which is why you’re staying close until this is settled. No arguments.”
I want to tell him I can take care of myself. But the truth is, I’m tired. Tired of planning and fighting and carrying grief alone.
I don’t want to fight anymore. Not tonight.
“Okay.”
Enzo blinks. “Okay?”
“I’ll stay.” I meet his eyes, and something passes between us. “Not because you’re making me. I’m choosing this. At least for now.”
