For me. For my safety. For my future.
Even if it meant losing the past completely.
Even if it meant being isolated from everyone who'd known me before.
Even if it hurt like hell.
I'd chosen myself. Chosen my wellbeing. Chosen the life I wanted instead of the life I'd been assigned.
And I'd keep choosing it. Every day. Despite the grief and guilt and loss.
Because the alternative—going back, accepting less, sacrificing myself for their comfort—was worse than any pain I felt now.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"For what?"
"For letting me lead tonight. For giving me control when I needed it. For supporting my choices even when they're hard."
"Always." He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "I'll always support your choices, Stefan. Even the ones that break your heart. Because they're yours to make."
I fell asleep believing him.
CHAPTER 16: MATTEO
EVENTUALLY, AFTER WHATfelt like an eternity, the trial began.
I sat at the defense table in federal court and tried to focus on what Diana Martinez was saying. Something about jury selection. About strategy. About how we'd handle the prosecution's opening statements.
But all I could think about was the fact that I might spend the rest of my life in prison.
The courtroom was packed. Media in the back rows, scribbling notes and taking photos when the judge wasn't looking. Federal agents scattered throughout, their presence a reminder of who held the power here. Prosecutors at their table, organized and confident, with boxes of evidence stacked behind them like a wall of inevitability.
And at our table: four defendants. Sandro. Elio. Luca. Me.
All of us facing life sentences.
All of us knowing the evidence against us was strong. Too strong.
Diana had done her best. She'd filed suppression motions on the surveillance evidence. She'd challenged the scope of the warrants. She'd questioned the credibility of witnesses. But the judge had denied most of our motions. The evidence was coming in. All of it.
Eight months of recordings from Vincent's wire. Financial records showing money laundering through shell companies.Witness testimony about violence and intimidation. The kind of evidence that buried people for life.
I looked back at the gallery.
Stefan sat in the front row. Right where I could see him. He met my eyes and nodded slightly. A reminder: I'm here. You're not alone in this.
The gesture made my chest tight.
Most people distanced themselves when someone was facing federal charges. Most people didn't want to be associated with defendants in a RICO case. Most people protected themselves.
Stefan moved closer.
He'd been coming to pretrial hearings for weeks. Sitting through tedious legal arguments. Watching prosecutors and defense attorneys argue about evidence and procedure. Never once suggesting he had somewhere better to be.
Just present. Steady. An anchor when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
The judge entered. We all stood.
