Sophie picked up one of the passports, opening it to find her photo alongside a name she'd never used. "Victoria Blackwood?"
"It seemed fitting. A piece of me, hidden in plain sight."
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "And you?"
"Marcus Blackwood. Wealthy investor, living quietly with his wife and soon-to-be child."
She set down the passport, studying me with those penetrating eyes that had seen through me from the beginning. "Can you really walk away from all this? Your empire, your power?"
I took her hands in mine, ignoring the dried blood still on my skin. "What I built was never the point. It was just a means to an end—security, control, freedom from anyone else's authority. But now…" I placed one hand on her stomach. "This is what matters. You. Our child. Everything else is just… infrastructure."
The doubt in her eyes cut deeper than any blade. She had every reason to question me, to doubt my capacity for change. I had taken her freedom, used her as a pawn, and dragged her into a war not of her making. That I had fallen in love with her along the way didn't erase those sins.
"I need you to believe me," I said, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. I wasn't accustomed to asking for faith rather than demanding it. "No more lies. No more games. You and the baby come first. Always."
Sophie studied me for a long moment, her hand covering mine on her stomach. "I believe you," she said finally. "But Vittorio, this life… it follows you. You can change your name, your address, even your face, but can you change who you are? What you've done?"
It was the question that had haunted me since the moment I'd decided to leave it all behind. Could a man like me ever truly escape his nature? Or would I simply build a new empire, create new enemies, put my family at risk all over again?
"I don't know," I admitted, the honesty burning my throat. "But I know what happens if we stay. I won't risk that."
She nodded, accepting my answer for what it was—not a promise of perfection, but a commitment to try.
"Where will we go?" she asked.
"First, Switzerland. I have a property in the mountains, isolated, secure. From there, perhaps Portugal or Argentina. Somewhere we can breathe, somewhere our child can grow up seeing more than just walls and guards."
I began gathering what we would need, the essentials only. Everything else could be replaced.
"We leave in an hour. A helicopter will take us to a private airfield. From there, we disappear."
Sophie moved to her closet, selecting only what she could carry in a single bag. No hesitation, no looking back. Her strength still surprised me, though by now it shouldn't have. She had survived Antonio, survived captivity, survived Falco's torture, and now Carbone's assassins. She was, in many ways, stronger than I had ever been.
As we prepared to leave the life I had built, I found myself watching her—this woman who had entered my world as a pawn and would leave it as my equal. My partner. The mother of my child.
Enzo appeared at the door. "The helicopter is ready. We've cleared the route."
I nodded. Enzo wasn't blood, but he'd proven more loyal than my own brother. "You know what to do in my absence."
"The organization will be waiting when you return," he said. "If you return."
The possibility hung between us—that this wasn't a temporary retreat but a permanent exit. That Marcus Blackwood might completely replace Vittorio Ricci.
"Take care of her," Enzo said, nodding toward Sophie. "She's… not what I expected."
I smiled faintly. "None of this is what I expected."
We made our way to the helipad on the east lawn, the wind from the approaching helicopter whipping Sophie's hair around her face. I helped her aboard, then turned for one last look at the estate I had built, the empire I had killed for.
It meant nothing compared to the woman beside me.
As the helicopter lifted into the night sky, Sophie's hand found mine. No words passed between us, but her grip told me everything I needed to know. Whatever came next, we would face it together.
The lights of Newark fell away beneath us, and with them, the last vestiges of Vittorio Ricci. In his place sat Marcus Blackwood, a man with only one purpose: to protect what was his.
The future stretched before us, uncertain but full of possibility. For the first time in my life, I welcomed the unknown.
CHAPTER 18
