I looked at Stefan, who'd heard enough of the conversation to look worried.
"I'll handle it," I said. "Thanks, Elio."
I hung up.
Stefan was already standing. "What did he say?"
I told him. Everything. About the Virginia burner phone. About the FBI connection. About the likelihood that this was either federal agents or Giuseppe using federal resources to threaten him.
I expected fear. Expected Stefan to reconsider staying. Expected him to maybe agree that leaving was safer.
Instead, his expression hardened.
"If they want me gone, I'm staying."
"Stefan—"
"No. Fuck them." His voice was firm. Sharp. "If my father thinks threats will scare me into coming home, he doesn't know me at all. And if the FBI thinks they can pressure me into isolation, they can think again. I'm staying. At Inferno. With you. Out of spite if nothing else."
"This is serious—"
"I know it's serious. That's exactly why I'm staying." He moved closer. "Inferno is home now. The first place I've ever belonged. The first place where I'm valued for my mind instead of my appearance. Where I have purpose beyond being decorative." His eyes met mine. "I'm not being driven away from that. Not by my father. Not by the FBI. Not by anyone."
Something fierce and possessive roared to life in my chest.
"You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything." He grabbed my shirt. Pulled me close. "I choose you, Matteo. I choose the Vitales. I choose this life. And if that makes me a target, fine. We'll deal with it together."
I kissed him. Hard. Grateful. Overwhelmed by this man who kept choosing me despite every logical reason not to.
"We should go back," I said. "To Inferno. If we're facing this, we face it from home. Together. With the full resources of the Vitales behind us."
"Home," Stefan repeated. "When did Inferno become home?"
I thought about it. About the moment Stefan had stopped being my prisoner and become my partner. About the nights he'd spent in my bed. About watching him work in that office, finding purpose in helping the Vitales. About the way he'd cut ties with his family and chosen us instead.
"Somewhere between the first kiss and now," I said. "Probably the moment you told your brother to fuck off and chose to stay."
"That was a good moment."
"One of many."
We packed quickly. The safe house had served its purpose—keeping Stefan secure while we identified the threat. Now we knew what we were facing.
The FBI. Giuseppe. Federal agents or a father using federal resources. Either way, they wanted Stefan isolated. Scared. Separated from the Vitales.
We weren't giving them that satisfaction.
The drive back to the city felt different than the drive out. Less tense. More resolved. We were going back to face the threat instead of hide from it.
Stefan reached for my hand. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not locking me away permanently. For listening when I called you out. For trying to find balance even though it's hard." He squeezed my hand. "For letting me choose instead of deciding for me."
"I'm still going to be overprotective. Probably too controlling. Definitely obsessive about your safety."
