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She had the same expression she’s wearing now—face pale, eyes glazed over. But although her posture is rigid, her lips are silently moving along with the words she is reading. With a deep breath, I stop myself from throwing the food I’m carrying onto the floor and rushing to her side. Instead, I place the plates on the counter and slowly walk to her, trying to figure out what has her so distraught.
With her hands trembling, she clutches a crumpled piece of paper so tightly that her knuckles turn white as the colour drains from her face.
“What is it?” I crouch beside her, my hand instinctively reaching over and stroking her arm in comfort. My gaze lands on the cursed photo frame I hoped would be burned or thrown into the ocean, but no luck—somehow, it has found its way back into our lives. The picture of Alessa’smother and father smiling at each other discarded on the floor right next to it.
“Fata?” I probe further, when she doesn’t reply.
Silently, her eyes still focused on her lap, she hands me the paper she’s been holding. It’s a handwritten letter.
My breathing ragged, I scan the words Rosa must have penned nearly twenty years ago. A confession and a plea for forgiveness, for freedom. Everything I have suspected since Alessa’s first day in the hospital is confirmed. Alessandro Carusso was not Alessa’s real father. Nico Nicolosi’s only son was.
I know I should feel something. I can see tears spilling from Alessa’s eyes at the shocking revelation. The world she thought she finally pieced together shattered once more. But it’s hard to look past the ever-expanding ball of happiness in my chest, so strong it nearly takes my breath away.
Because this is the best possible outcome I daren’t have hoped for.
I pull her trembling frame onto my lap. “Hush now,cuore mio1,” I murmur thickly, stroking her hair. “Everything will be alright…” The truth of that statement pierces my soul—Nicolosi can’t fucking touch us now. His marriage contract will be fulfilled by the one person he wanted to get rid of—Alessa, his own blood. The darkness in me rejoices at the cruel twist of fate. I will marry a Nicolosi, after all.
She sniffles, hiding her face in the crook of my neck, and despite the happiness, my heart aches at the pain I know she must be feeling at this moment for the life she could have had. Except the ache is shallow because as much as I love her, I can’t help the selfish thoughts—if she had that life, would she be here with me? Would I have ever found her? The possibility of a life without her—bleak and colourless—cuts deeper than a sharp knife, leaving a searing pain in its wake.
Her hands dig into my t-shirt as I press my lips onto her temple. Pressing my fingers below her chin, I lift it up, turning her to meet my eyes. Eyes that flashed like lightning storms when we first met and made me yearn to kiss away their fury. Now they swim with hurt and questions that shred me deeper than any bullet or blade ever could.
“I know this—this letter shakes the foundation of who you thought you were,” I say, brushing away a stray tear with my thumb. “But it does not change the person you are. The brave, stubborn, vulnerable woman who has completely bewitched me—body and tattered soul. The woman who saved me from the monster within.”
She bites her lip. “You are still the same courageous.maddening,” I give her a smile, “beautiful Alessa, who had me spellbound from the first moment. MyFata.”
She lets out a shaky breath, but keeps her watery gaze locked with mine. Seeing the trust lingering there, I feel something loosen in my chest. My voice drops lower, rough with sincerity and promise. “This letter does not define you. What matters is here and now. You and I.”
I take her face between my hands, drawing it closer and forcing her to truly listen—see the love I feel behind my eyes. “You hold my heart, baby, for all eternity. No vow I make to you will ever be broken. No one will ever come between us. Because,Fata, I am bound to you. Irrevocably bound to you.”
“You’re mine, and I’m yours,” she whispers.
“Nothing will tear us apart, baby.” I place a kiss on her nose. She came back to Blackwood looking for answers, but I know what she ended up finding goes beyond the truth.
I shift her around until she straddles me.
“I love you, Dante,” she says, my name on her lips sounding like a prayer.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, reminding me there’s aworld outside of our bubble. Ignoring it, I kiss her fiercely, desperately, knowing there are still storms on the horizon.
“We’ll fly to Vegas this weekend,” I murmur against her lips. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“Okay,” she agrees, through a small smile. “Who’s going to marry Nicolosi’s daughter, then? Angelo? Luca?”
I grin. “Me, baby. Did you not read the letter? You’re a Nicolosi.”
She gasps. “Oh my god, does that mean—”
“Nico Nicolosi is your grandfather? Yes.”
“Eeww,” she makes a sour face, making me chuckle.
“He’ll get what he deserves.”
She bites her lip. “Shouldn’t we—”
“No, he doesn’t deserve mercy. Not from me, and especially not from you.”
She sighs. “Shouldn’t we at least tell him?”
