“But what about the next threat?” I ask, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. I’m not stupid enough to think Romano was the only threat and we’ll now live happily ever after. “What about all the other people in your world who might?—”
“Gigi.” He tilts my face up to look at him so I can look into his serious dark brown eyes. “I’m not that man anymore,” he tells me, stroking my chin. “The man who burned down your clinic, who forced you into marriage, who cared about nothing but revenge—he died in that warehouse with Romano.” He pauses, clearly mulling over his words. “I’m not saying I’m going to become some kind of saint. I’m still in this life. But I’m going to be smarter about it and more careful. Because I have you to think about now.”
“Promise me,” I whisper, fear still strangling me. “Promise me you’ll do everything you can to stay safe. To come home to me every night.”
“I promise.” He seals it with a kiss, soft and gentle. “I promise,cara. Forever.”
I believe him. Maybe I’m naive, maybe I’m foolish, but I believe him.
And for tonight, that’s enough.
My father arrives the next afternoon.
I’m sitting in my chair beside Luca’s bed while reading another non-romance book when Danny escorts him in.
Dad looks…broken. That’s the only word for it. His face is gaunt, his eyes haunted, and he moves like a man who’s aged twenty years in the last few weeks.
“Gigi.” His voice cracks when he sees me. “Baby girl, I’m so?—”
“No.” The word comes out sharp, and Dad stops in his tracks. “Don’t call me that. Don’t act like you have the right to?—”
I stop, take a breath. Luca’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently. It grounds me enough to get my next words out.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” I say finally. “I’m glad you’re okay. But I need you to understand something, Dad. Everything that happened, everything we went through, it all started because of choicesyoumade.”
“I know.” Dad’s eyes are filling with tears. “I know, and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I was weak. Sorry I let the gambling control me. Sorry I didn’t have the courage to stand up to Romano three years ago.” He looks at Luca. “And I’m sorry about Marco. He was a good man who died because of information I provided. Nothing I do will ever make that right.”
Luca is quiet for a long moment. I can feel the tension in his body, see the way his jaw is clenched. But when he speaks, his voice is measured.
“No,” he agrees. “Nothing you do will make it right. Marco is dead, and that’s on you as much as it’s on Romano.” He pauses and I can see him struggling to come up with the right words. “But Romano is dead too. And revenge hasn’t brought me the peace I thought it would.”
“I’ll accept whatever punishment you decide,” Dad says, and there’s something different in his voice now. Steadier. Stronger.Like the man he used to be before addiction sunk its claws into him. “I’ll turn myself in to the police. Testify against Romano’s organization. Whatever you want.”
“No.” Luca’s answer surprises me so much that I turn in my seat to stare at him. “You’re not going to prison. You’re not going to testify. You’re going to disappear.”
Dad blinks and I continue staring. “What?”
Luca nods. “Viktor has contacts in Arizona. A small town, quiet, away from all this.” Luca’s thumb strokes across my knuckles, soothing me. “You’re going to move there and start over. New name, new life. Far away from Chicago, your vices, and everything that happened here.”
“I-I don’t understand,” Dad says slowly, his eyes darting to Luca’s and my joined hands. “Why would you do this?”
“Because my wife loves you.” Luca looks at me, and the adoration in his eyes makes my breath catch and my heart rate increase. “And because I love her. And because she deserves to not carry the guilt of her father’s death for the rest of her life.”
“I’ll do it,” Dad says immediately, looking near tears again. “I’ll go. I’ll stay sober. I’ll—” His voice breaks. “Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance I don’t deserve.”
“You’re right. Youdon’tdeserve it.” Luca’s voice hardens slightly, and I shiver at the crime lord coming out. His eyes cut to mine. “But Gigi deserves to not live with that burden,” he says, still maintaining eye contact with me before placing his piercing gaze back on my father. “So you’re going to take this gift and you’re going to earn it. Understood?”
My father nods vigorously. “Yes. Yes, I understand.”
Dad turns to look at me, and I can see him trying to find the words, trying to bridge the chasm between us. “Gigi, I?—”
“I love you, Dad.” The words hurt to say, but I keep going. “I love you, but I also don’t trust you. Not yet. Maybe not for a long time. But—but I’m willing to try if you’re willing to do the work.”
“I am.” He’s crying again, tears leaking down his weathered face. “I swear to you, baby girl, I’m going to be the father you deserved all along. Even if it’s too late.”
“It’s not too late,” I say softly, remembering the father he was to me before Mom died. “It’s never too late to start being better.”
We talk for a while longer—about logistics, about the move, about the future. It’s awkward and painful and necessary. When Dad finally leaves, escorted by Viktor’s men who will help him relocate, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my chest.
