Chapter 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

Dominic

M y fingers skimmed over the cold barrel of a gun, a relic from a life I was ready to bury. The weapon lay among other trinkets of power and peril on our bed—each object a chapter in the tumultuous history. With a decisive clack, the chamber closed, the sound echoing against the bare walls stripped of memories.

"Are you sure about this?" Alexa's voice, soft as the silk of her hair, brushed against the tension in the air.

"Positive." My reply was a gravelly whisper, my eyes not meeting hers as I wrapped the gun in a dark cloth. Shadows played across her face, the dim light of the room casting patterns that danced with the uncertainty that neither of us would ever voice.

Alexa reached for a stack of photographs, the edges worn, the colors faded. She lingered on an image of us at the carnival, back when laughter came easier and the darkness hadn't yet seeped into our smiles. She tucked the memory into a small cardboard box, her hand trembling slightly.

The space around us was filled with the rustle of packing paper and the soft thud of objects being placed into boxes. Each item was a deliberate step away from the past, a shedding of our old skins. I wrapped my father's watch, a symbol of inheritance and obligation, its ticking now silenced, encased in packing paper—a barrier between then and now.

"Once we're done here," I broke the silence, tone resolute, "we'll be free."

I paused, holding a photograph of myself as a boy, my father's heavy hand on my shoulder. A storm of emotions flickered through me as I placed it into a box marked personal. It was the last piece of a puzzle we were choosing to leave unfinished.

The finality of each sealed box punctuated the reality of the decision. We were leaving behind the opulence that cloaked treachery, the gilded cages of our former lives.

"New York in autumn," Dominic mused from across the room, his voice steady but laced with anticipation. "Central Park will be ours to explore, away from prying eyes and hidden daggers."

"And we'll walk the streets freely, Dom. No looking over our shoulders, no…"

"Exactly. Just Alexa and Dominic. Not the mafia prince. We'll be whoever we want to be."

The walls, stripped bare, echoed the emptiness that tugged at the corners of his heart—a heart that beat with the fierce tempo of anticipation.

"Did we get everything?" Her voice was a delicate feather floating across the barren landscape of our soon-to-be former home.

"Every single thing that matters," I replied, words slicing the air with decisive certainty.

Together, we prowled from room to room, movements synchronized in silent communion. Drawers were pulled open, then closed with soft thuds, closets emptied of secrets and shadows. We found comfort in the gentle clink of keys and the soft zip of bags sealing away remnants of a life left behind.

"Turn off the lights," I murmured, the command wrapping around Alexa like a protective shroud. She obliged, fingertips grazing switches like a pianist's finale, plunging each room into darkness—one by one extinguishing our past.

"Ready?" I asked, though it wasn't a question. It was a call to arms.

"Ready," she affirmed, her voice steady, her resolve unbreakable.

We stepped out where the car waited, a chariot at the cusp of our new dawn, its engine purring like a beast eager for the hunt. I held the door open for her and closed it behind her.

I settled beside her and as we drove away, the skyline of sin receded into the rearview mirror, memories fading into the abyss. No more would the neon glow illuminate our nights; no longer would the underbelly of the city dictate our fate.

I pressed the accelerator, the car responding with a surge forward, as if eager to outrun the shadows. I didn't speak of the challenges that awaited us; words were unnecessary. With every revolution of the wheels, we plunged further into our new life, the unknown no longer a specter of fear but an exhilarating enigma waiting to be unraveled.