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And despite the doctors still working on Moretti right next to us, despite the body of Fausto lying lifeless in his own blood, at this moment, everything in my life was perfect.
Until my eyes met Alessio’s, who was pale as a ghost and looked like he’d just seen one, too.
CHAPTERFORTY-SEVEN
Finally home.
I sighed when we arrived at the door to our room at Castello dei Pietra.
Our room.
The concept still sounded so foreign.
But since that one fateful day when I fainted in the kitchen, everything had changed.
After two weeks in the hospital—being fed by the whole Falcone clan—including Gabe, who turned out to be quite the mother hen—I was ready to go home.
Home to Castello dei Pietra.
Home to start our life.
Because, despite the frequent visits, I was sick of the dirty-white walls, the constant prodding, and the hospital vibes.
All I wanted was to enjoy a quiet afternoon without a single person asking me how I was doing.
I was also missing my family something fierce.
I’d talked to Jemma and Cara but had not heard a single word from my father.
Gabe stopped me from opening the door with his hand above mine. “Are you good if I pop down to the control room for half an hour?”
He skimmed over my cheek, then circled my face with both his hands and stole a kiss. “Mamma will most likely check in with you in a minute. But I promise, you will get your break from people.”
I smiled at him. Somehow in the past two weeks, Gabe went from dangerous protector to mind-reader. He seemed to know just what I was thinking before I even voiced it.
He gave me a kiss on my nose—another thing that had changed—his constant need to touch my hair, skim over my skin, hug me, kiss me, or fondle me. As if he couldn’t keep his hands off of me.
I turned, opened the door, and froze.
It looked like the backstage of a runway show had made a baby with an haute couture store—and they had triplets.
There were racks and racks of clothes. Clothes covered every surface except the bed. “What the—”
Gabe came up behind me and put his hands on my waist.
“Fuck. Forgot about that.”
I looked at him over my shoulder. “You forgot you transformed our room into a clothing store?”
He kissed my forehead. “I had those delivered weeks ago.”
“So what? You slept in the middle of that?”
I took a couple of steps, let my finger glide over a beautiful blush-colored ballgown. Then an emerald-green cashmere sweater.
I looked back at Gabe when he didn’t answer. There was a strange energy coming from him.
“What is it?”
