After a long moment, she moves to tuck herself under my arm, fitting perfectly against my side.
She lays her hand flat against my chest. “I have to tell you something.”
I trace her spine with my knuckle. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been hiding something from you for a while.”
The tense note in her voice cuts through my blissful haze. “Okay. What is it?”
She exhales a heavy breath. “When I met with Vita for lunch that one time before we agreed to Gino’s plan, I asked for something in exchange for convincing you to do it. A favor. She said I could ask for anything. Initially, I was going to ask her to help me leave you.”
My lungs empty out.
“It tore me up lying to you,” she says softly. “I made it seem like the only reason I wanted to go through with this mission was to help you, but really, I had my own selfish motive.”
That’s what it was… The guilty look I noticed in her eyes when we were at the beach house.
“Will you forgive me?”
I press a kiss against her head. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
The tension that slipped into her body eases. “Well, she still owed me that favor. Before I came here, I went to see her.” She lifts her head off his chest and meets my gaze. “I asked her to get Gino to let you go so you can be Rafaele’s consigliere again.”
What?
The air seems to leave the room all at once. I stare at her, dumbfounded. “Baby, that’s—”
“It’s done.”
“No way.” Impossible. Gino would never.
A grin tugs on her lips. “It’s done. It’s happening.”
“How?” I choke out.
“Can’t you tell Vita’s got Gino wrapped around her little finger? Took a few hours of them talking, but she made it happen. You’re back.”
I sit up, turn to face her on the bed, and cup her cheeks. That world that seemed so gray just before she came back is fucking technicolor now.
“I love you so fucking much, Sunshine.” There is nothing, absolutely nothing in the world, I won’t do for her.
And when she smiles at me with that twinkle in her eyes, I know she knows it too.
EPILOGUE
NERO
KT Bar & Grille in Hazard, Kentucky, isn’t the kind of place you’d bring a date.
The floors are sticky, and the smell of stale beer hangs in the air. A neon sign buzzes softly in the corner, casting a sickly green light that barely reaches the rest of the room. There’s a jukebox in the corner, but it’s silent, and the only sound is the low murmur of the few patrons scattered around the bar.
It’s the sort of place that feels forgotten, tucked away from the rest of the world. It's the sort of place where people go when they don’t want to be found.
“Another one?”
I nod, sliding my empty glass toward the bartender. He refills it with Angel’s Envy and passes it back.
“You been to these parts before?”
