Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

I sit at the kitchen counter, slowly picking at leftovers. I'm not hungry, but with Albert gone to his event and Renzo and his brothers going over last-minute details in my former office, there's not much else to do. Renzo still won't let me in on their plans, but at least I know he's taking Luigi. That makes me feel a little better. Luigi knows how to deal with the ‘Ndrangheta—he's been doing it for years. He's the one who initially opened the door to the truce, and his territory borders theirs. A few independent families exist between Luigi and the ‘Ndrangheta's sectors, but they're nothing too strong or crazy, just smaller groups feeding off the scraps left behind by both sides. Except for Rome. Rome has always done its own thing.

I hear the office door open and footsteps echo down the hallway. My heart clenches, and I blink back tears. This is it—the last time I'll see my husband. I can't live in a world where I don't matter, where I'm always on the outside looking in. I can't live with a vampire. That level of monstrosity is unfathomable, beyond terrifying, at the same time alluring. I can't allow myself to be drawn in. Staying would be signing my death warrant. Maybe I'd get a few years, but eventually, he'd have to kill me. It would be safer for him and his family. I know their secrets, and the expiration date on my existence is looming. Better to run and give myself a chance.

I stand and walk into the hallway, forcing a smile as they approach the door. "Good luck," I say, my voice wavering just a little.

Nico gives me a quick nod, his expression unreadable. Luca stares blankly, like he's not really seeing me. Renzo stops in front of me, his gaze softening as he takes my face in his hands. "We'll be back before dawn," he murmurs, running his knuckles along my jaw. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. "Sleep while you can because once I'm home there will be no sleep." He kisses my forehead, lingering for a moment longer than usual, and then he's gone, the door closing with a finality that echoes through me.

I walk to the living room window and watch them get into the convoy of SUVs waiting outside. The line of vehicles resembles something a visiting dignitary and their entourage would have—all they need is their own flag to fly. They are royalty, and everyone knows it.

My heart pounds as a thought seizes me—what about the police? Once the Carabinieri know Renzo is alive, will they go after him for Russo's murder? Will Renzo end up in jail? I snort at the absurdity. Even if he does, he won't stay there long. But would that create an opening for me in the family? Hope sparks, only to flicker out immediately. Even if Renzo is jailed for a short time and I take over, I'd be right back where I started the moment he's freed. And if he never gets out, the families won't keep me at the helm. The ‘Ndrangheta would revolt for sure.

No, it's better to go. Now is my moment. Time to strike out on my own and pray no one can track me down. I turn away from the window as the last SUV disappears down the drive and climb up to the bedroom. I pull out a duffel bag and throw in a few days' worth of clothes, an extra pair of shoes, and the blonde wig. I change from my dress into jeans and a sweater, pulling my hair into a bun. I glance around once more before grabbing a bracelet with a universal key hidden on it—just in case I get handcuffed along the way. "You never know," my mother used to say.

And she was right. I sure as hell didn't .

I slip on my boots and grab my phone. I call Ralf. "Hey, Ralf, I'm going to meet Luna at the café in town. I want to leave in five minutes."

" Si . Five minutes," he replies.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look the same as I did before I got married, but inside, I'm completely different. Inside, I'm as much a monster as my husband—a product of my birth, my environment, but mostly, my ambition. I want to live.

I grab my bag and head downstairs, climbing into the back of the black BMW. Ralf shuts the door behind me, and seconds later, we're speeding down the driveway. The gates loom ahead, still closed, and I hold my breath. The house security knows Renzo is alive because they've seen him on camera, and they'll keep his secret because spilling it would cost them their lives. But did he leave instructions about me? The gates stay closed.

Ralf lowers the window as one of the security guys approaches. I don't know his name. Ralf waves impatiently. " Che cazzo ?" What the fuck ?

" Renzo dice che lei non esce di qui senza lui o uno dei suoi fratelli come scorta ." Renzo says she doesn't leave here without him or one of his brothers as an escort.

Fuck. This was exactly what I was afraid of. I start to speak, but Ralf beats me to it. " Sono il suo fottuto accompagnatore. Sono stata la sua sicurezza fin da quando era adolescente. Ora apri quel cazzo di cancello." I'm her fucking escort. I've been her security since she was a teenager. Now open the fucking gate.

The guard shakes his head. " Renzo mi taglierà la testa, cazzo ." Renzo will have my fucking head.

I place my purse on my lap and lower the window. "I'll have your fucking head if you keep me here any longer. I have a meeting. Open the fucking gate, or I'll open it with your head." I push my hand inside my purse, pretending to reach for a gun. The guard sees my movement, his eyes widening as he takes a step back. I know he's heard about what happened to Big Tony and Giuseppe, and Angelo's disappearance hasn't gone unnoticed either. All of it flashes across his face as I start to pull my hand out of my bag.

He retreats and signals to the camera. When the gate doesn't open, he pulls out his phone, speaking rapidly into it as he turns away. I hold my breath until the gates finally swing open. My hands shake as I raise the window again.

I slump back in the seat, exhaling a shaky breath as Ralf accelerates away from the house. First hurdle down. I'm not looking forward to the next part. Ralf has been more than just security; he's been a friend, of sorts. Or rather, we've been friendly. After today, he's going to hate me.

We pull up in the alley beside my favorite café, just like we've done a million times. Ralf and I get out and head inside. Around others, he drinks espresso like all Italian men do, but when it's just us, he orders an Americano with a load of sugar. "You wait here," I tell him. "I'll get our coffee."

He nods, taking his position by the door to scan the crowd inside and out. I order our drinks and add sugar to his coffee at the bar. I also add the crushed sleeping pills I'd gotten from Albert. I told him I was having trouble sleeping when Renzo was gone, and Albert gave me some, no questions asked. I never took them; I couldn't let my guard down like that. Today, while Renzo was downstairs with his brothers, I crushed them up.

I carry the cups back to Ralf. "Not sure when Luna will get here. She just texted saying she'll be a bit late. How about we sit outside? I'll take the corner table where you can see me from the car, and you'll still have a view of the street. I want to people-watch; you know how I love it, and I get so little opportunity these days."

Ralf hesitates but then takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes narrow, studying me. Shit. Can he taste the pills?

" Si , okay. You be careful, eh? Non fare niente di stupido ." Don't do anything stupid . It's the mantra he's been saying to me for as long as I can remember. Ralf is like an older brother, just ten years my senior. I nod and take my seat at the table. Now, I just have to wait for the pills to kick in .

I dial Pippa's number from memory. "Hey," I say when she answers, trying to keep my voice casual. "Can you talk?"

"Yeah, just give me a second." I hear her murmur to someone, " Torno subito, zia." I'll be right back, Auntie. A door clicks shut, and she comes back on the line. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the café."

"Oh, nice. Are you meeting Luna or something?"

"No. Are you at Luigi's?" I ask, trying to keep my tone light but every muscle in my body is wound tight. I don't want to reveal too much because I know Renzo will question Pippa. I have to be careful.

"Yeah. He had to go out for something and asked me to stay the night." She sighs heavily. "So, what are you doing at the café?"

"I'm waiting for Ralf to fall asleep."

Pippa's gasp is sharp, and I can visualize the shock on her face. "You're doing it? You're leaving?"

"Yes. Luna said things are getting worse on her end. There's so much happening that I can't tell you, but it's a now-or-never situation, so I'm going for it." My heart beats like a drum in my chest, and saying the words out loud makes my escape feel all too real. And terrifying.

"Good for you. Once you're settled, let us know. Luna and I will join you."

I close my eyes, a lump rising in my throat. I want that more than anything, but I know the chances of us meeting again without Renzo finding out are slim to none. The realization stabs at me, and sudden tears burn at the back of my eyes. I'm saying goodbye to my friend, and it hurts more than I expected. I clear my throat, struggling to keep my voice steady. "That would be great. I'll send you a postcard to let you know I'm okay, and then we can figure out how to stay in contact." It kills me to utter this lie. Maybe I can find a way to make it work. But even if I can't, I'll do everything I can to help Pippa and Luna escape, even if it means keeping them in the dark about where I am.

I glance toward Ralf, watching him sip his coffee. The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. Those damn pills better work, or I'm stuck .

"I'm going to miss you," Pippa says softly. "Luna's not the only one with changing circumstances. Now that you're married—or were—Papa thinks I need to get married too. He's looking for a husband. It's awful. I don't want to be married. Husbands suck."

"Oh, I don't know. There are some good things about it," I say, trying to lighten the mood, even as dread twists my stomach.

"Yeah, sure. The sex on demand is great if you actually like your husband and the sex is good. But knowing my luck, that won't happen. By the way, how was it with Renzo? We never really talked about it. Was he amazing in bed?"

"Yes," I admit, swallowing the lump in my throat. "He was amazing. But it's not just the sex. It's nice having a partner who takes care of you, who keeps you safe, and who respects your ideas. That's worth a lot."

Pippa snorts. "Yeah, right. We'll never get that. I mean, you were only with Renzo for a short time, so maybe he didn't have time to drive you crazy. But I can't picture being married for a long time."

"I can." The truth of my acknowledgment hits me hard. I can picture years with Renzo, being partners, trusting each other, loving each other. It would be the best. My resolve wavers, the thought of staying tempts me. Maybe a few good years would be worth dying for.

"You're dreaming. Name one person who's happily married."

"Luigi. He's so in love with Louisa."

Pippa sighs, the weight of it heavy between us. "Okay, I'll give you that one, but Louisa's dying, and I think Luigi's losing it."

"What do you mean, losing it?"

"He said some weird stuff tonight, mumbling to himself like he was talking to someone who wasn't there. I think he's cracking under the pressure of watching Louisa fade away."

"It's a lot of pressure," I say, though my nerves tighten. "I'm sure he's just overwhelmed." But fear crawls up my spine. Luigi can't afford to crack—not when he's supposed to be helping Renzo tonight.

Pippa grunts in frustration. "Maybe, but he sounded unhinged. He kept saying it was finally happening, that if they waited any longer, it'd be too late. He talked about saving Louisa, that she just had to hold on one more night and then they'd be together forever."

"Did he mean suicide?" I ask.

"I asked the same thing. I told him that I would be crushed if he died with Louisa. He said after tonight I never have to worry about that. He and Louisa would outlive me by many years."

My stomach churns as dread washes over me. Could he really mean what I think he means? "Did he say anything else?" I ask, my voice strained and thin.

"Just that he didn't like his new partners, but it didn't matter. They wouldn't have to work together long—just tonight—and then they could go back to wherever they came from and then he and Louisa would be free to do whatever they wanted."

My heart plummets, and my breath speeds up into panic level. The implications of her words swirl in my mind, and for the first time, I wonder if I'm running in the wrong direction.