“I’ll make it bigger.”
She chuckles, resting her forehead against mine. “You’d try, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d do a hell of a lot more than try.”
The thing is—I mean every damn word.
She’s the only person who’s ever made me want out of the games.
Out of the politics, the backroom deals, the expected alliances. I’d burn every bridge to keep her.
But that’s not a decision you get to make alone—not in this family.
I look at her, really look. The wind lifts a strand of her hair, and I tuck it behind her ear. “Come with me next time I leave town.”
“Gio—”
“I’m not asking for forever. Just… don’t disappear when we’re not in the same zip code.”
She leans in again, slower this time. The kiss is softer, but there’s something final about it. Like she’s memorizing the shape of my mouth.
When she pulls away, her hand lingers on my chest. “If I stay any longer, I’ll never leave.”
“That’s the point.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Text me when you get home?”
“Only if you promise not to ghost me for three days again.”
“That was one time.”
“Still traumatized.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
She rises on tiptoe to press one last kiss against the corner of my mouth.
Then she steps back, fingers slipping from mine like falling silk.
Stephanie walks toward the curb, her coat flaring behind her, arm raised to flag a cab.
I watch her like I always do—grinning like an idiot, like a man who doesn’t know better.
I’m already thinking of texting her in five minutes.
Already planning the next time I’ll get to steal her away.
Then I hear it.
Tires. Fast. Wrong.
My body registers the sound before my brain does—rubber shrieking against pavement, a guttural growl of an engine, too close, too deliberate.
A dark van barrels around the corner, jumping the curb with brutal precision.
“Stephanie!”
She turns just as the sliding door yanks open.
