Epilogue
Dante
Goose bumps break across Lucia’s skin when I brush her hair to one side. It tumbles in a soft wave over her shoulder, exposing the delicate column of her neck and a small constellation of freckles.
Before searching for it only six short weeks ago, I’d only seen that combination of freckles on a woman’s skin once before. The pattern on the neck of a woman who held me captive for five years matches a cluster of stars I traced on maps as a boy.
Every time I see it, I feel a strange sense of certainty that I’d been searching for her longer than either of us realized.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me,angelo,” I murmur, my voice low enough that only she hears me.
Lucia nods, though worry still peppers her features. We’ve become so dependent on each other the past six weeks that she hates stepping even a few feet away from the safety we’ve carved out of the chaos that should have destroyed us.
We were brutally betrayed, but we came out of the flames stronger thanever.
Lucia trusts me now. She knows I’d never risk something so sacred for anything less than our children.
Yes, I saidourchildren.
As I walk out of a stuffy and impersonal meeting room, each step torture, my thoughts drift back to the way Lucia looked at me the first time we tucked in Camille as coparents. Her voice trembled when she expressed shame about not recognizing us sooner. She said it felt like she’d failed, that although it is understandable she didn’t look closely at Camille since she believed she had birthed a boy, it should have taken more than a beard and a costume for me to be unrecognizable.
She clearly forgets how much we both drank that night.
Our faces were also hidden behind masks—both literal and otherwise.
You don’t realize how anonymous you are until one magical night strips you of a cloak you never want to wear again.
Lucia also isn’t solely to blame. I’d wondered why the sparks died so fast when Anna pretended to be Lucia, but I never implemented steps to get answers as to why everything was so different. I sensed something was off with Anna, but I believed her lies since I was incapable of imagining such cruelty.
I could have avoided months of pain if I had looked deeper into the loss of our connection, but when someone shows up at your door, claiming you fathered their child, you runyourDNA through the system. You never think to compare the mother’s.
Carmela and Anna played me like a fucking fiddle, but I can’t change the past. I can only clean up the mess and strive not to make the same mistakes.
The cleanup after the truth came out was brutal and efficient. Carmela’s body will never be found, and Edoardo sealed his fate long before the day he took his final breath.
Even before he took his own life, too cowardly to face my brothers’ wrath after we discovered he hired the mole who infiltrated our security system, he was already the coward of the Cosa Nostra.
Heleft behind no legacy and no honor. His name isn’t even worth mentioning. It only comes up while discussing the one good thing he left behind: his son, Gabriele, the child he had with Anna.
Anna was forced to do Carmela’s dirty work the past four years because she, too, broke the rules that fateful night. According to Carmela, Anna’s sin was far less consequential since she had seduced someone in the Cosa Nostra. Her bait snagged a fish from the bottom of the pond, but for years, Carmela believed it was one step better than what Lucia had hooked.
She had no clue that one smile secured Lucia permanent access to the cream of the crop when it comes to mafia royalty.
It’s been a long six weeks unraveling the vault of lies we were told. Edoardo, Anna, and Carmela didn’t solely center around Lucia and me. They dragged the entire mafia realm into the web of deception, which featured a falsified marriage certificate, birth records, and illegitimate claims of ties to sanctions long voided.
I’m exhausted, but today will finally slot the final piece of the puzzle where it belongs. It’s a giant step toward a stable, loving life I was confident I was getting when I snuck into an unlocked storage room on Lucia’s heel.
Gabriele sits in the corner of the boardroom. His composure is wary, and his hands are folded in his lap as he braces for more bad news. It’s been one knock after another for the shy four-year-old over the past six weeks. He lost his mother, father, and grandmother on the same day.
He has no one left—no one but us.
Gabriele’s teeth rake his lower lip when Lucia kneels before him. Her movements are subtle. She’s mindful he might bolt if she breathes too loudly. He has a lot of the same frightened impulses Camille had when she first entered my life.
Today is the first time Lucia is seeing him in person. Even though he isn’t her biological son, the way she looks at him—with that fierce protectiveness her eyes have always held for Camille—displays adepth that proves you don’t need to be related by blood to be loved without fear of expectations.
After clearing my throat, I step forward, coming shoulder to shoulder with a man who is seconds from shaping my destiny. Henry Gottle Sr. is the boss of bosses. He’s stern when he needs to be, merciless when left no other option, but also compassionate.
His nodded approval for me to kill Anna without consequence occurred seconds before I took my shot.
