Matteo.
I shouldn’t be here tonight but I couldn’t stay away.
The safe house was tucked away in the middle of nowhere, shrouded by dense woods and the kind of silence that made even your thoughts feel loud.
Annalise was asleep when I left, so I had nothing to worry about.
As the car rolled to a stop, the gravel crunching under the tires, I leaned back against the headrest, letting out a loud exhale.
Why did I come here?
For days, this exact moment had haunted me. After what happened with Valentina that particular day in the warehouse, I had replayed every word, every decision, every step that had led me here.
And now, as I stood at the beginning of facing it all, my chest tightened with something I refused to call fear.
I had done what was right at that particular moment. I did what was needed.
No one would fault me for it.
Caterina’s son, Marco, was waiting by the front door, cigarette in hand, looking as though he hadn’t slept in days. The red glow of the ember flared briefly as he inhaled, his sharp eyes flickering over me as I stepped out of the car.
Out of all Caterina’s children, he was the one closest to my age.
And the one I disliked the most.
Drug addict for years, ran away from the law multiple times through my influence because Caterina begged for it. Now, he was repaying all those favours.
“Matteo.” Marco said my name like a greeting, straightening slightly.
I didn’t bother to return the pleasantry. My eyes cut through Marco’s, searching for the only answer that mattered.
“Are they safe?” Is she safe?
Marco nodded, his lips turned down in a frown. “For now. Valentina and Isabella are in the room they share. Reed’s in the next room, out cold. Long night.”
It had been a long night buddy that wasn’t what caught my attention.
My jaw tightened. “What aren’t you saying?”
Marco hesitated… a brief flicker of something I couldn’t place crossing his face. He dropped the cigarette, crushing it beneath his boot. “Caterina didn’t make it.”
No. No.
It was a foolproof plan and nothing was supposed to go wrong. No one was supposed to die.
The words hung in the air like a rope tightening around my throat.
“What?” The question came out like a whisper.
Marco’s voice dropped, his usual stoicism cracking under the weight of the admission. “During the rescue. One of Luca’s men got her, and she took the hit meant for one of the girls.”
She took the hit meant for one of the girls. Valentina could have died.
I didn’t respond, the weight of his words sinking into my chest like an anchor. Caterina. Fierce, unyielding Caterina. She was more than an ally or a friend… she was family in every way that mattered.
She had volunteered for this before I even asked.
And now she was home, another casualty in this stupid war Luca was raging for something that was never his.
For a moment, I felt even more deflated, my thoughts now a chaotic storm of grief and anger. But I couldn’t afford to dwell on it.
Not here. Not now.
“Are you okay?” I asked finally, keeping the pain out of my tone.
Marco nodded but didn’t move. “Matteo…”
I didn’t let him finish. I brushed past Marco, stepping into the house, the heavy door creaking shut behind me. The interior was dimly lit, the faint hum of the heating system the only sound.
It smelled of exhaustion and cigarette… a temporary haven carved out of desperation.
The staircase groaned beneath my weight as I ascended, my steps deliberate and soundless. I paused outside the designated door for the girls, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
Perhaps this wasn’t the time for this, and I was wrong.
But I couldn’t walk away. Not this time.
The door opener with a faint creak, revealing a small room illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight streaming through the curtains. Valentina, tesoro, lay closest to the door, her body curled in on itself, her breathing slow and steady. Her hair which I loved to run my hands through was a chaotic halo around her face, blond strands sticking to the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.
Isabella lay on the other side, her frame smaller than before, more fragile, but just as peaceful.
My eyes lingered on Valentina, my breath hitching at the sight of her. This woman, who had every right to hate me, had endured hell because I couldn’t let go of a personal vendetta, and discarded her like a used rag. Yet, here she was, a picture of resilience even in her most vulnerable state.
My legs moved before my brain could form another thought, my footsteps barely audible on the worn wooden floor. Pulling a chair to the foot of the bed, I sat down, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees.
My eyes never left her face.
For three hours, I didn’t move.
I watched her breathe, each rise and fall of her chest a reminder that she was still here, still fighting despite everything I’d put her through.
But it seemed like my brain had another brain of its own because it kept dragging me to the past. To my mother’s death, to Bianca’s warnings, to Caterina’s lifeless body. Guilt clawed at my insides, sharp and unrelenting.
I hated what I had become… a man molded in my father’s image.
“Your mother didn’t deserve this life,” Bianca had said, her voice trembling with the weight of secrets she couldn’t share. “A light in a world full of darkness, attracting the shadows.”
Shit.
Valentina stirred in her sleep, a soft murmur escaping her lips. I froze, my breath caught in my throat. For a moment, I thought she would wake, her eyes finding me in the dark and demand answers I wasn’t ready to give.
But she settled again, her breathing evening out.
There was no need for me to remain here anymore. The walls felt too close, the air too heavy. I left the room as quietly as I’d entered, the door clicking shut behind me.
Downstairs, Marco was waiting in the kitchen, a fresh cigarette between his fingers.
Fuck.
Did he rest at all?
He glanced up as I entered, his expression unreadable.
“Get everyone ready,” I ordered. “They’re leaving later today.”
Marco exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes sharp. “Where to?”
“Somewhere safe.” I replied simply, my tone asking for no argument.
Marco didn’t press further, nodding once before disappearing to make the necessary arrangements.
I lingered in the kitchen for a while, my hands gripping the edge of the counter as I stared out the small window into the dark lands beyond. The cigarette Marco had left behind smoldered in the ashtray, the scent curling around me.
I thought of Valentina upstairs, of the way she’d looked at me the last time we’d seen each other… eyes filled with hurt and anger, yet still searching for something beneath the armor I wore.
“You don’t deserve her.” A voice whispered in the back of my mind. “But you’ll fight for her anyway.”
And fight I would.
No matter the cost.