Chapter 30

THIRTY

Sabella

The doctor only signs my discharge the next day. I'm impatient to get home, to start again. To live.

Angelo carefully helps me into an SUV with plenty of leg room. Considerately, he didn't take his sports car. I would've had to fold my body double to get in. I don't ask where we're going. It doesn't matter. Whether it's the old or the new house, I know he'll stay with me. We'll be together—him, the children, Heidi, and me. It's all or nothing now. I'll never settle for less again.

I'm not surprised when he pulls up at the old house.

He switches off the engine but doesn't get out from the car. "I hope this is all right."

"What?"

"The house. I know I made bad memories for you here. But I reckoned you'd rather be here than having to stomach the new house." He drags a hand over his head. "Fuck. I made bad memories for you everywhere."

I lay a hand on his arm. "I don't need you to make memories for me. I can make my own."

"With me in them?" he asks with a hint of vulnerability.

I smile. "You'll definitely have a place in my memories."

"Happy ones?"

"If it depends on me, yes, but it takes two to tango."

Possession flashes in his eyes as he cups my knee. "I'm going to work hard on that goal."

The kids come charging from the house with Heidi in tow.

"Sabella," Sophie exclaims.

Smiling wider, I open my door.

"Careful," Angelo says, hurrying to get out of the car. "Sabella is still mending." He makes his way to my side with long strides. "It's better not to hug her yet." He grabs étienne who's already climbed onto the footstep of my door. "Definitely don't jump into her arms."

"We made you presents," Sophie says, jumping up and down.

"You did?"

Angelo puts one arm around my shoulders and the other underneath my knees before lifting me from the car as if I'm made of paper-thin glass.

"I can walk," I say.

He smiles at me. "I know, but I like to take care of you."

Heidi pushes the front door open wider to let us through. "Welcome home, Mrs. Russo."

"We're not going back to addressing each other formally, are we?" I ask with good humor.

She winks. "I always wanted to say that." Addressing Angelo, she continues, "The room is ready. I prepared a special meal to celebrate." She throws a conspiratorial glance at the kids. "With chocolate cake for dessert."

A chorus of excited cries follows. Johan doesn't join in, but he watches with a shy smile and one hand shoved in his pocket. It's a perfect imitation of Angelo's stance. Does Angelo realize how much Johan looks up at him? There's no denying the admiration and eagerness for approval in the boy's eyes as he looks at his uncle.

The kids run behind us as Angelo carries me up the stairs. Instead of turning toward my old room, he goes into his.

"Is this a permanent or a temporary arrangement?" I ask.

"The room?" He lowers me onto the bed. "This is as permanent as it gets, cara."

Sophie hops onto the other side of the mattress and hands me a drawing. "Look, Sabella. I made this for you to say welcome home."

I take the sheet of paper with the drawing of a woman, a man, and four children standing next to a big house. The sky is filled with fluffy blue clouds and red flowers push up from the grass. Welcome home is written in neat capital letters on the top. My chest warms. This is so different to the drawings she used to make of only her and me.

"Thank you," I say. "This deserves a frame and a special place on the dresser."

She bounces over and kisses my cheek.

"Careful." Angelo catches her around the waist. "Sabella has broken ribs, remember?"

Sophie sucks air through her teeth. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when I sneeze or laugh, so don't tell jokes."

She giggles.

Guillaume brings his hands from behind his back and dangles a macaroni necklace in my face.

"This is so pretty," I say, taking the necklace. "Is it for me?"

He bobs his head up and down. "Heidi helped me to make it."

"Can I put it on?"

He nods enthusiastically again.

I pull the elastic over my head. "How do I look?"

He tilts his head. "Very pretty."

étienne thrusts a bunch of immortal flowers at me. "This is from me and Johan. He showed me where to pick them."

"Oh, I love flowers." I take the bouquet of bright yellow blooms and inhale their scent of honey and fresh hay. "We'll have to put them in water."

"Can I get you anything, Sabella?" Johan asks.

"I'm good for now, but thank you."

"'Cause you just have to say."

I smile. "I promise I will."

"Right, everyone." Angelo ushers them to the door. "Let's give Sabella time to rest before dinner."

Sophie hangs back. "Are you staying here for good?"

I look at Angelo.

"Yes," he says, holding my gaze. "She is."

"Forever?" Sophie asks.

Angelo ruffles her hair. "Forever and ever."

"Okay," she says with a satisfied nod. "I'll go tell Beatrice and Alison."

Angelo ushers them outside and closes the door before walking to the side of the bed where he stops to scrutinize me. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

He cups my face. The pain that sparks in his eyes reflects in my heart. "It'll get better."

Yes, it will. Both of us know that from experience.

I savor the warmth of his palm on my skin for the couple of beats he keeps his hand there before moving it away.

"Is she still projecting herself on the dolls?" I ask.

"Less and less." He sits down on the edge of the bed. "Sabella, I haven't told you everything that happened. I couldn't talk freely at the hospital."

My stomach clenches. "I saw the fighting in the forest. I'm so sorry, Angelo. How many poor men died?"

"Numbers aren't important," he says evasively. "What matters is that we dealt with the men who started that war."

"Are they dead?"

The light in his dark eyes is cold. "All of them. The kidnappers as well as the men who hurt you."

I don't feel remorse for those men. All I experience is a sense of justice. A sense of relief. "The kids look well and happy. They weren't hurt, were they?" The question has been tormenting me since Angelo called to tell me they were taken.

"They just got a big scare." He adds with a note of pride, "They were very brave. The boys even attacked me, thinking I was one of the kidnappers."

"Oh my God. How did you find them?"

"We tracked their trail until late into the night. The kidnappers drove off with the kids in the SUV after dumping my driver." His black eyes glitter with loathing. "My men found Waldo's body in a ditch not far from the school."

"That's horrible," I exclaim.

"I'm only grateful the kids didn't see when those fuckers offed Waldo. The kidnappers pulled bags over their heads."

The thought of that alone sends a wave of hot anger through me.

"Marziale overrode the cameras in the new house and intercepted our communication." His jaw bunches. "Did you try to call me when the shooting broke out?"

"Yes." I swallow at the memory. "A recording said the number didn't exist."

"I tried to call you when I found the kids, but the phone just rang. When I checked the cameras, you were in the shower."

"How did they manage that?"

"My uncles or cousins must've given them the phone numbers. I suspect someone—maybe my cousin or uncle—slipped in while you were out for a walk to override the camera feed. I checked the video recordings from before, but they're all wiped out."

"Why would your uncles betray you? I know they had an issue with me, but why help your enemy and risk the children's lives?"

"My uncles wanted to take over the business. They didn't like the way I handled things. They hated that I took your side over theirs. In their eyes, you were the enemy, the daughter of the man who killed their brother." His smile is wry. "When they insisted I get rid of you, I reinforced my authority by making them kneel and swore their obedience to me. I guess they had a hard time swallowing that humiliation down.

"They sold me out when they made a deal with Marziale. The goal was weakening me by hitting me where I'd feel it the hardest—you. Then they'd gather their forces and kill me and my men. According to Enzo, kidnapping the children wasn't part of the plan." He pauses. "There's something else you need to know. After Daisy came to see me, she went to my uncles, and they teamed up with Marziale."

My mouth drops open. "You must be joking."

"I wish that was the case. I warned her. I went as far as paying Laura Remington a visit in the hope that she'd talk sense into her daughter, but she put too much faith in Daisy's ability to play the mobster. All Daisy got for her scheming was getting her and her mother's throats slit."

I blink, trying to process the news. She was my half-sister, but instead of grief I only feel pity. Perhaps Daisy was more like my dad than any of his other children. Maybe she didn't lie when she said he loved her the best, but instead of swamping me with jealousy like before, acceptance leaves me at peace. I'll never know what happened in Dad's heart, but it's not important. The only thing that matters is that he loved me. He never failed to show me he cared. He always told me how much I meant to him. Those were the last words we said to each other.

Love you, darling.

I love you too, Dad.

That those were our final words consoles me more than anything.

"I know it's a lot to process," Angelo says, pulling my attention back to him.

I shake my head. "I feel sorry for her, but I don't feel sad. I just find it hard to believe that she was that brazen."

Taking in his face, I notice the strain in the hard lines of his features and the toll of sleepless nights in the shadows under his eyes, yet his gaze is vigilant and the set of his shoulders square. Despite everything that happened, he's strong and watchful, the pillar all of us are leaning on. After what went down, he'll do whatever is necessary to keep us safe. And that means his uncles' fate is sealed.

I know the answer even before I ask, "Your uncles?"

His tone is flat. "My uncles and cousins are dead."

The statement nevertheless shocks me, but nothing surprises me anymore. "I'm sorry."

His voice is harsh. "Don't be. They got what they deserved for selling us out. That's how Marziale knew where to find you."

"That's his name?" I ask, loathing pushing up in my throat. "The man with the tattoo on his hand?"

He clenches his jaw. "Yes, and it'll be the last time we speak it in this house."

I'm grateful for that.

"Nico paid an informant to tell me you made a deal with Lavigne. The minute I learned the truth after Lavigne visited you, I confronted the informant. That's how I learned about my uncles' betrayal. Enzo confessed the whole thing."

"Is that where you went when you left with the yacht?"

"To Marseille, yes, to deal with the informant."

"This can't happen again. The kids should never have to go through something so traumatic."

"It won't." He takes my hand. "I'll make damn sure of it. Nothing will ever happen to you or the kids again, and nothing will come between us. I swear that on my parents' graves."

"I know. I trust you." I bite my lip.

He hooks my hair behind my ear. "But?"

"But I need you to trust me too."

"I know my mistakes. I won't repeat them. You chose us, and I'll always choose you."

As the reassurance of his words settles inside me, I allow myself to lower my guard for the first time in years. I haven't let go for so long that the luxury of relaxing feels foreign. Incredible relief fills me when I realize I don't have to do this alone. For once, I can depend on someone else. Up to now, survival has been a lonely fight. I only had myself to rely on. When I finally give up the control I defended for so long and so fiercely to protect my life and my heart, exhaustion sneaks up on me.

Angelo's smile is tender. "You look tired, cara. You need to rest. We can talk more later."

I tighten my grip on his hand. There's too much living I want to do, too much I can't say when I'm in the dark place of unconsciousness. "I'd like to call my family."

"Of course. Sleep first and then eat something. You need your strength. You'll have plenty of time to talk to them." His eyes harden a little even as his voice remains gentle. "I'm flying them over. They're arriving tomorrow."

"They are?"

"Heidi already prepared their rooms."

"Here?"

"Yes, here." He presses a kiss on my forehead before standing. "Are you comfortable?"

I flinch when he helps me to lie down.

"Do you need painkillers?" he asks.

"I'm fine."

"Another pillow?"

I shake my head.

"Later, bella," he says with another kiss on my cheek, but he doesn't move from the side of the bed.

When my eyes flutter closed, he's still standing there.