"Terrifying. You stood up to your father. Walked away from your family. Most people never find that kind of courage."
"I had help." I covered his hand with mine. "I had you."
His thumb brushed my cheekbone. "We make a good team, Mrs. Monti."
"We do, Mr. Monti."
My eyes were already closing. Sleep pulled me under despite my best efforts to stay present, to savor this moment of peace we'd carved out of chaos.
"Sleep, Paola," Cesare said softly. "We've earned it."
I wanted to stay awake. To memorize this feeling—safe, wanted, chosen.
But my body had other ideas. Exhaustion won.
The last thing I felt was Cesare's arms tightening around me, pulling me closer.
The last thing I heard was his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my ear.
CHAPTER 14
Cesare
The acquisition contracts blurred together on my laptop screen. A Brooklyn tech startup, clean financials, profitable within eighteen months if managed correctly. Legitimate business expansion—the kind that looked good on paper and better in federal investigations.
It was Tuesday afternoon. Five weeks and three days since the wedding; four weeks since Giovanni’s retirement. Bianca was still living in the guest room, monitored 24/7. A temporary arrangement that needed to become permanent—one way or another.
I had options. Send her to one of the European territories with enough money to start over. Put her in witness protectionthrough FBI contacts. Or the permanent solution some of my men had suggested—make her disappear entirely.
But I couldn't make that call alone. Not when it involved Paola's twin sister.
Paola needed to be part of the decision. Whatever we did with Bianca, it had to be something Paola could live with. Something that wouldn't haunt her, wouldn't make her resent me years from now when she looked back.
So I waited. Watched Bianca. Gave Paola time to process the betrayal, to decide what mercy—if any—her sister deserved.
Meanwhile, Bianca remained a distraction. A reminder of everything that had gone wrong. A thorn in my plans that Paola tried to hide her feelings about but couldn't quite manage.
The penthouse stretched quiet around me. Paola was in the study, working on a gallery exhibition proposal she'd been researching for the past week. She’d slowly been able to dip into her old life, just a bit–still couldn’t meet with old acquaintances, but she was working again at least. I could hear the occasional tap of her keyboard, the rustle of papers when she made notes.
Life had found a strange normalcy. A dangerous word in my world, but accurate.
My phone buzzing shattered the silence. Rocco.
I answered. "Yeah."
"Boss. Those documents from Bianca—I've been going through them systematically like you asked. There's something you need to see. About Piero."
Every muscle in my body locked. "What about him?" Why the hell would my brother be showing up in Lombardo documents?
"Not over the phone. Can you come down to your office? I'm here now with the files."
The urgency in Rocco's voice set off every alarm I'd developed over six years in this business. "I'll be there as soon as I can. I need to do something first."
I hung up, stared at the phone. Piero. What could Bianca's documents possibly have about Piero?
I found Paola in the study, laptop open, surrounded by notes about Renaissance art. Light from the window caught in her dark hair, turning it copper at the edges.
She looked up when I entered, smiled—the real smile she'd developed over the past few weeks, not the fearful one from the beginning.
