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“King,” I begin, my words measured. “I need a way out.”
Silence lingers on the line before he responds, “Alessandro, you know the rules. There’s no way out once you’re in. You are already on our watchlist. You don’t get to just opt out of it.”
“I can give you information,” I counter, desperation seeping into my voice. “Information that can bring down the Ricci clan, the Cosa Nostra. I want out, King. I want freedom.”
There’s a pause, a pregnant moment where the fate of my future hangs in the balance. Then, King speaks, “Meet me. Let’s discuss this face to face.”
The clandestine rendezvous, that will either seal my fate or pave the way to a new beginning, is set.
We meet King in what seems to be a regular office. The contrast between the setting of our conversation and its topic is so strong that it ends up being almost comforting. I get up from my chair as he steps in the aseptic room where I have been told to wait for him. I offer my hand and he shakes it. Then he goes to his seat, in front of me, on the other side of the table between us. I sit down as he does. His eyes never leave me, sharp and penetrating. I can feel him analyze every nuance of my demeanor. But, before he has a chance to speak, I lay it all on the table. The cards of my life scattered for him to see.
“I want immunity for Rachel and me,” I declare, my tone unwavering. “No charges for the crimes we’ve committed.”
King leans back, studying me with an inscrutable expression. “Immunity is a steep request, Alessandro. What makes you think we should grant it?”
“I can dismantle several clans, expose everyone worth mentioning who’s involved with the Cosa Nostra,” I reply, conviction burning in my eyes. “But I need freedom for that, King. A clean slate for both of us.”
King, the puppet master of law and order, weighs the scales, considering the cost of the information I offer against the value of our freedom. In the end, a reluctant nod signifies an agreement.
“We’ll grant you immunity,” he concedes, his voice edged with caution. “But you have to understand, Alessandro, there’s no turning back from this.”
I nod, acknowledging the irreversible path I’ve chosen.
During our conversation, Rachel was waiting outside of the room. King now gestures for me to let her in. The moment Rachel is finally seated next to me, he gets straight to the point. “We’ll have to fake your deaths and give you new identities.”
His words hit hard, making the sacrifice for our freedom painfully clear. Rachel looks at me, fear and determination in her eyes. I squeeze her hand, silently promising we’re in this together.
King isn’t done. “Alessandro, your cooperation will be under a microscope. The moment we catch a whiff of betrayal, forget the immunity deal.”
I nod, fully aware of how delicate this situation is. The walls feel like they’re closing in as King lays out the plan—our staged deaths, new identities to wipe us off the map. It’s a chance at a fresh start, a shot at escaping the shadows of our pasts and diving headfirst into a future together.
I’m ready to begin anew with the woman I love.
EPILOGUE
Rachel
As we step out into the stark corridors of the FBI headquarters, the realization of our new identities settling upon us, I catch a glimpse of Sophie. Her presence, a silent guardian throughout this tumultuous journey, beckons me.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I tell Alessandro.
I approach Sophie, a rush of gratitude and emotion welling up within me. “Thank you, Sophie,” I say, my voice sincere. “For everything.”
She hugs me so tight I struggle to breathe for a second. “Are you okay now?” she asks, concern etched in her eyes.
I glance back at Alessandro, waiting patiently for me in the corridor where I left him. “Yes,” I reply, a newfound sense of certainty threading through my words. “I think I will be.”
Sophie smiles, a mix of understanding and relief. “Take care of yourself, Rachel. You deserve happiness.”
With those parting words, I return to Alessandro’s side. The doors of the FBI headquarters ahead, a threshold to a world where our pasts are buried, and our future remains unwritten.
As we step outside, Alessandro’s presence beside me is a constant reassurance. The weight of our chosen names—Alex and Mia—anchors us in this newfound reality.
He walks me to his car, where he leans in and kisses me. “Mia, sei mia.You’re mine.”
After a few hours’ drive, a question pops into my mind and I turn to my new Alex. “What happens to the Ricci clan?” I ask him.
“That will be Giulio’s responsibility now. He will have to navigate his life as a don.”
