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"Sometimes, Dario Marchetti, doing the right thing requires the hardest sacrifices," I murmur, standing on tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, tasting the salt from his unshed tears. "But you, of all people, would never shy away from that."
"Jasmine..." His voice is a caress, laden with emotions he seldom shows. He wraps his arms around me, a fortress in a world of chaos, and I feel the steely resolve beneath his skin.
"Let's not think about the darkness anymore, not tonight," I say, pulling back just enough to see the depths of his eyes. "Tonight, you're here with me, and that's enough. Tomorrow, we'll face whatever comes. Together."
"Si, insieme," he whispers, the Italian rolling off his tongue like a promise. Together. It's a word that feels too big for us, too full of implications, yet somehow perfect in this fragile moment.
"Let's just... be," I suggest, and he nods, understanding the need to simply exist, to breathe without the weight of the world on our shoulders.
"Be," he repeats, and we sink onto the couch, wrapped in each other's arms, the stillness of the apartment a balm to our weary souls.
"Thank you, Jasmine," Dario murmurs into my hair, and I feel the reverberation of his gratitude deep within my chest.
"Always," I reply, because no matter the danger, no matter the twisted world he comes from, this man, this fiercely protective mafia prince, has etched himself into the very fabric of my being. And I can't help but hold onto him, even as the night presses in, full of secrets and unspoken fears.
Chapter 24
The Heart Wants What it Wants
Dario
I blink my eyes open, the room cloaked in darkness. I'm not in my bedroom and disorientation washes over me until I piece together the night that brought me here.
The dead informant, kidnapped children, the dead men, Jasmine and I falling asleep in each other's arms.
The soft rise and fall of Jasmine's breath against my chest is the only thing grounding me to reality. With the horrific night behind me, and the children safe, I can now sit and dissect every moment to make some sense of what happened.
Now I realize that we were so horrified by what was unraveling, that we had no time to stop and think. It was do or die, with each breath serving a purpose, without a single futile second to spare.
And as I look back at it, I realize that had Jasmine not been there, things might not have ended this well. She held me back when I tried to dive right into the action, allowing us time to gather evidence.
Because of her decision, the kids were all loaded into the truck, saved from becoming collateral damage once I attacked. She kept them safe. She kept me alive by jumping in and killing one of the goons just when I needed her to.
My eyes adjust to the dimly lit room and fall on Jasmine sleeping soundly beside me. She's nestled into my side, her head resting on my shoulder, a feather-like weight.
Her delicate beauty seems almost ethereal in the moonlight that filters through the curtains. I trace a finger along her dainty jawline and luscious lips, marveling at how someone so seemingly fragile, so small, so beautiful and gentle manages to fight the way she does.
Jasmine has challenged me from the moment we met. Her fiery spirit and unwavering determination to stand up to me, even when she knew the danger that came with it, intrigued me like no one else ever has. In this quiet moment, I find myself reflecting on all the ways she's changed me, pushing me to question everything I've ever known.
All my life, I've been surrounded by sycophants and woman eager to please me. Jasmine has never tried to do that. I had stopped believing in the concept of love, or marriage because I didn't see a point to it. But now, I know that a true mafia don would only grow stronger with a woman like Jasmine by his side.
She's not a sycophant. She's a partner in the truest sense.
"Jasmine," I whisper, my voice barely audible. Even though she's asleep, I need to hear her name on my lips, a reminder of how I lucked out.
I recoil with guilt when she stirs. I don't mean to wake her and fortunately, she doesn't. Instead, she snuggles closer to me, her arm draped over my chest.
The warmth of her touch seeps into my skin as if to reassure me that she's really here, and this isn't just another dream.
I can't help but wonder how long this reality can hold true for, what the future holds for us. Will the flames of our passion burn bright enough to survive all the chaos that's a part of my life? Or will the fire that brought us together ultimately be extinguished?
For now, all I know is that Jasmine has awakened something within me that I never knew existed – and I can't imagine a life without her in it.
"Ti amo, Jasmine," – I love you – I murmur into the darkness, knowing that even if our story is destined for heartache and tragedy, I'll have no regrets for having loved her with every fiber of my being.
The fact that I just told her I loved her for the very first time and she didn't even hear me doesn't go amiss, and I smile as I and only I take in my confession.
Taking a deep breath, I lean over and gently brush the hair off Jasmine's face. My fingertips graze her smooth skin, and my heart swells with tenderness. I plant a gentle kiss on her forehead, hoping that she can feel the love I have for her even in her sleep.
