“I jumped off a cliff. It reorganized my priorities.”
I pull her close. Kiss her forehead. Her cold nose presses into my neck. Even now, the heat between us pulses. Her body against mine, reminding me what waits when we’re alone again.
“Thank you. For today. For being here.”
“Always, Horse Man.”
I take Marisol’s hand. We walk out of the park together. Into Chicago. Into whatever comes next.
Behind us, the swing set creaks in the wind. The sound of children who aren’t there anymore. The sound of children who made it out.
But I’m not thinking about the past anymore. I’m thinking about the hotel room waiting for us. About peeling Marisol out of that dress she’s wearing under her coat. About warming her properly after she shivered in Chicago’s autumn chill just so I could have this moment with Sofia.
My cock hardens at the thought, blood rushing south with an urgency that surprises me after the emotional weight of today. Or maybe because of it. Maybe I need to be inside her to process what just happened. My sister’s smile, the dress design in mypocket, the way Marisol held my broken pieces together while I defied my brother’s orders.
She feels the shift in my energy. Her hand tightens in mine, and when I look down, her honey eyes are dark with the same need. She knows what I’m thinking. She always does.
“Hotel,” she says, and it’s not a question.
“Hotel,” I agree, already calculating the fastest route, already imagining her beneath me, already knowing we might not make it past the door before I’m inside her.
“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For letting me see that. For trusting me with Sofia.”
I look down at her. This woman who makes me brave enough to defy the Don for the people I love.
“I love you,” I tell her. The words come easier now. “And I’m about to show you exactly how much.”
Chicago can wait. Marco can wait. Everything can wait except this woman who made me brave enough to choose my sister, about to discover exactly how grateful I am.
33 - Marisol
We’ve been in Chicago for two days, and Nico’s spent most of it preparing me with briefings about his family like we’re planning an operation. ‘Marco will assess you.’ ‘Don’t let Alex bait you.’ ‘Try not to be alone with Luca,’ ‘Maria will cry.’ Now, as we approach the compound, I realize no amount of preparation could ready me for this.
I've faced down a godfather who wanted me dead, jumped off a cliff into dark water, and sat across from police detectives without flinching. None of it made my heart race quite like this, because those were battles I understood. This? Meeting the family of the man I love? This is vulnerability I can't fight with cliff-jumping or empire-running.
The compound looks nothing like the photos I've seen, those tabloid aerials that treat organized crime like architectural porn. This isn't a house. It's a fortress disguised as old-money elegance. A three-story limestone mansion with walls that could stop bullets. Manicured grounds surrounding the long, curving driveway, and guards patrolling. Even the hedges look sharp, like they've been trained to cut.
"Relax," Nico says from the driver's seat, his hand finding mine across the console.
"I am relaxed."
"Your knee is bouncing so hard it's shaking the car."
"That's a medical condition." My knee keeps its frantic rhythm while I watch his thumb stroke my palm, the slighttension in his jaw that means he's nervous too. "Very serious. Genetic. Don't mock my condition."
That almost-smile flickers across his face, the one I've been collecting like rare coins. It steadies me more than any reassurance could.
The gate closes behind us with a sound that's less 'welcome' and more 'you're in now.' Through the windshield, warm light spills from windows. I can hear it already: voices. Many voices. The Rosetti family at full volume.
"How many of them are in there?"
"All of them."
"All. Great. And they're all… like you?"
"Worse."
"That's not comforting, Horse Man."
