Dante hands him the box, and Romeo hands it to me. When I open it, I see a ring inside. It’s antique and beautiful, with a large emerald surrounded by diamonds.
"This was my grandmother's," Dante says quietly. "It's been in the Ciresa family for four generations. I was going to give it to Romeo when he was ready to marry." He looks at his son. "I brought it today because I suspected this conversation would end with a proposal."
Romeo takes the ring with his good hand, and I can see his fingers trembling slightly as he slides it onto my finger. It fits perfectly.
"Welcome to the family, Savannah," Dante says, and there's warmth in his voice now. "I look forward to meeting my grandchild properly when they arrive."
He leaves after that, giving us privacy, and I'm left staring at the ring on my finger. "I can't believe you did that," I whisper. "I can't believe you were willing to walk away from everything."
"It's not everything." Romeo pulls me closer, careful of his injuries. "You and the baby—you're everything. You’re the only things I can’t live without."
I kiss him then, carefully, and I can taste salt from both our tears. "I love you," I whisper against his lips. "Even though you're impossible and controlling and sometimes terrifying."
"I love you too." He's smiling now. "Even though you're stubborn and defiant and just killed a man in a hospital hallway."
We both laugh, and it feels good—like maybe we're going to be okay.
Like maybe all the choices led to this, and there’s nothing to regret at all.
—
Two weeks later,I'm standing outside a detention facility in lower Manhattan.
Romeo wanted to come in with me, but I told him no. He's still recovering—the doctors cleared him to go home, but he's not supposed to be doing anything strenuous. And besides, this is something I need to do alone. So I asked him to wait in the car, and he agreed. Proof that he’s trying.
My father is waiting in a small room with a table and two chairs. He's wearing an orange jumpsuit, and there are darkcircles under his eyes. He looks older. Diminished. When the guard brings him in, he stops short at the sight of me.
"Savannah." His voice is rough. "I didn't think you'd come."
"I almost didn't." I sit down across from him, keeping my hands folded on the table. "But I wanted you to see me. Just once. Before I say what I came here to say."
He sits down slowly, and I can see him taking in my appearance. The engagement ring on my finger—no longer Thad’s, but Romeo’s.
“I heard you killed Thaddeus Whitmore.” He looks at me as if he doesn’t recognize me. “But I’m the one sitting behind bars.”
“He tried to hurt me. But you were okay with that, as long as it got you what you wanted.” My voice is hard, almost unrecognizable. It’s not how I’ve ever spoken to my father in all my life.
He says nothing.
“You know I’m pregnant,” I say calmly. “That it’s Romeo Ciresa’s.”
His lips fold together, but he nods.
“Your grandchild,” I emphasize the words. “One you’ll never meet, or hold. One who will grow up never knowing your name."
"Savannah—"
"I'm not finished." My voice is colder now. "Do you know what the consequences of your actions are, Daddy? It's not prison. It's not losing your reputation or your business or your money."
He frowns at me. "Then what?"
"You'll never know your grandchild." I hold his gaze. "You'll never see their first steps. Never hear their first words. Never watch them grow up. You'll never be part of their life."
A shock of pain fills his eyes as it sinks in. "Savannah, please?—"
"And you'll never speak to me again." The way I say it is absolute, final. "Because I'm done. I'm done trying to earn your approval. I'm done letting you make me feel like I'm not enough. I'm done being your dutiful daughter."
"You're all I have left—" He pauses. “Your mother left. She filed for divorce. I?—”
