Married to Vincenzo Orsini.
Of all people.
The boy from the cave.
The one I had held together with trembling hands and whispered reassurances.
The one I had thought about for years, wondering if he had survived, if he had found peace, if the world had been kinder to him than it had been that night.
Instead...
He had become this.
A man carved from violence.
A mafia kingpin feared across countries.
A man who could rewrite lives with a single decision—mine included.
My impromptu husband.
My stomach twisted.
My feet moved before I consciously decided to go anywhere, carrying me back toward the open balcony like I needed air—needed space—needed something that didn’t feel like it belonged to him.
The cool night air greeted me immediately, brushing against my skin, slipping beneath the thin fabric of my dress.
I stepped forward, resting my hands against the smooth stone railing.
Below, the estate stretched out in perfect, manicured precision.
My eyes traced the perimeter instinctively, muscle memory kicking in before I could stop it.
Entry points. Exit routes. Blind spots. Guard rotations.
Nothing obvious.
Of course not.
This wasn’t some sloppy safe house or temporary hideout.
This was Vincenzo Orsini’s territory.
Every inch of it was designed for control—for surveillance—for containment.
For people like me.
The distant crash of waves filled the silence, steady and relentless, a rhythm that almost matched the chaos in my head.
I leaned forward slightly, letting the cool breeze brush against my face, closing my eyes for just a second.
What could this new life possibly hold for me now?
The question settled heavily in my chest, refusing to be ignored.
Safety... yes.
That much was undeniable.
