Chapter Thirty-Two

Violet

One week later, The Russo home, Bel Air…

“Ugh… home, sweet fucking home… AGAIN.” Violet’s heels scraped against the marble floors as she entered her parents’ home. Each step dragged heavier than the last. The grand foyer that once symbolized warmth now felt like a mausoleum of what used to be. For fifteen years, she had masterfully orchestrated their interactions, maintaining the delicate balance between daughter and independent woman. But since Theo’s death, the walls of her carefully constructed sanctuary had crumbled, leaving her tethered to this place more than ever.

“How long is this going to continue?” she muttered as she stood quietly for a moment. The transformation of Sophia Russo was painful to witness. The woman who had once commanded rooms with her quiet grace, who had taught Violet the art of subtle power, had vanished. In her place stood a hollow shell, a woman whose grief had morphed into a desperate need to control what remained of her family. Where her mother once carried herself with dignified composure, she now clutched at Violet like a lifeline, each demand for attention was more suffocating than the last.

Watching her mother’s descent through the stages of grief had been excruciating. The initial shock and denial had given way to an anger that burned everything in its path. The bargaining phase had been the worst filled with endless ‘what-ifs’ and ‘if-onlys’ that served no purpose but to deepen the wound. Now, instead of moving toward acceptance, Sophia seemed stuck in a depression that had twisted into something darker and more consuming. She had become the very thing she’d once despised—needy, demanding, and using her loss as a weapon to guilt her remaining children, especially Violet, into submission.

“Fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can handle this,” she muttered as she popped her head into the den in search of her mother.

Violet’s own grief sat like shattered glass in her chest, each breath threatening to drive the shards deeper. Balancing her mother’s demands with her own healing felt impossible. Her walking away from a future with Dexter, coupled with her family’s expectations, was a burden that threatened to break her.

“How I wish I never set foot back here again!” Every visit to this house was a reminder of how different things could have been. If she had never agreed to help them, if she’d met Dexter under different circumstances, and if she’d been stronger or braver to continue fighting for their future…

“Enough with the what-ifs, Violet. It’s done, and it’s time to move on.”

“It took you long enough to get here,” Sophia’s voice, now perpetually tinged with criticism, cut through Violet’s thoughts like a whip. “Come, darling. I need your help in the study.”

“For fuck’s sake, if I hear those words one more time, I’m gonna fucking lose my shit,” she muttered as she walked toward the rumble of voices and clinking glasses. The familiar sounds of her family wheeling and dealing in her father’s study felt like another noose tightening around her neck.

“What the hell…” Violet stumbled to a halt in the doorway. The entire study was in shambles. It looked like a tornado had lifted everything and dumped it in the center of the room.

Tag and Leo looked frazzled as they moved the furniture around under Sophia’s guidance.

“No, no… that’s also wrong. Move it to the other side… or no, under the window.”

“Enough, already, Mother,” Tag snapped as he dropped the heavy sofa and glowered at her. “We’ve carried this fucking thing around the room ten times. I’m done wasting my time.” He gestured around. “There was nothing wrong with the way the study was.”

“How can you say that?” Sophia cried, and on cue, the tears started to flow.

“Oh, Lord help me,” Violet mumbled. “I don’t have the strength for this.” Her voice sharpened as she walked deeper into the room. “Why am I here, Mother?”

“You can see why you’re here,” Sophia wailed as she swiped a tissue over her eyes. “We’re redecorating the study. It has to… we can’t leave it… you need to tell them to listen to me.”

“You made me rush over here for this? For fuck’s sake, Mother. I was at work. When are you going to realize I can’t just leave everything and rush over here when you snap your fingers for…” She swiped an angry hand through the air. “This shit! Moving around furniture while I had urgent appointments.”

“This is just as important,” Sophia said stubbornly. “We need to move everything out. I have to find—” She clamped her lips together and looked around wildly.

“Enough, Sophia. You’ve been under a lot of strain,” George said soothingly. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a nap.”

“No! We have to find it,” she shouted at him. “Why can’t we find it, George?”

“Find what?” Violet asked.

“I might have a clue.”

Violet’s body turned to stone at the dark voice sounding behind her. She felt the heat emanating from his body without turning around. Every cell in her body started to zing as his essence folded around her like a cocoon.

“Where did you find that?” Sophia’s voice cracked as she became as pale as a ghost.

Violet turned. Her heart skipped a beat as her eyes caught the look in Dexter’s eyes. He stood unmoving, silently watching her while the message in his eyes was one of regret as much as it filled her with hope at the flashes of a much deeper emotion.

“Whose gun is that?” she managed to croak as her gaze drifted to the semi-automatic pistol in the plastic bag he held up.

“According to the serial number, it belongs to your mother,” Rex said as he walked inside with Max, Jax, and Axel following close on his heels.

“How do you have it then?” Violet’s blood ran cold as she recalled her mother’s words. She turned to face her. “This is what you’re looking for? The gun?”

“You know how pedantic your mother is about keeping the guns locked away, Violet. Hers had gone missing, and she’s been frantic to find it.” George folded his arm around his wife’s frail shoulders. “She believes she needs it to keep all of you safe.”

“Hmm,” Dexter said as he studied the pistol. “When exactly did it go missing, Mrs. Russo?”

“Dex, what is this?” She glanced sideways at him when he stepped closer.

“This is me making right a wrong. You walked away from this house and family for a reason. You succeeded and had a happy life until they wheeled you in to do their dirty work. It’s time to permanently cut that cord, Violet.” His lips curled in derision. “I fucked up with you. I love you, I believe I always will, but I chased you away because I couldn’t look past them.” He pointed at her family. “At how you allowed them to use you. I suppose that was what kept me from allowing you back in. The fear that now that they have their claws into you, they’ll never let go and soon, they will consume your every moment. The thought of us having kids and allowing them to be in their lives… I couldn’t live a life like that.”

“Dex, I’ll—”

“I can’t allow them to keep using you, Violet. This is the only way I know to open your eyes so you can make the right decision for your life from this day forward.” He cupped her cheek and smiled sadly. “Because I’m afraid if you don’t do it now, you’ll lose your beautiful nature and individuality permanently.”

“Cut the fucking sugary talk,” Sophia snapped.

Violet looked at her in shock. She had never heard her mother use that tone before. No matter what the situation was, Sophia always kept her cool and acted like a lady.

“Hand over my gun, Mr. Flint, or I will lay a charge of theft against you,” she threatened as she took a step closer.

“Be my guest.” Dexter pulled out his phone. “Or why don’t I do it for you? At least that way, we know the cops are on their way.”

“Put down that phone, Flint,” Leo growled as he aimed his gun at Dexter’s head.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Violet exploded. “Lower your gun, Leo. In case you didn’t notice, you’re outnumbered.” She stomped her foot. “Everyone cut the crap.” She turned on Dexter. “Enough with the innuendos. Talk. What are you here to tell me?”

“The bullet that killed your brother came from this weapon,” Rex said as he handed her an official forensic report.

“I don’t understand,” Violet said as she read it and looked at her parents. “When did you lose the gun, Mother?”

Sophia clamped her lips shut. George hugged her tighter.

“It doesn’t matter. All it proves is that someone got their hands on it during the shootout and used it to kill Theo.”

“That’s one theory,” Dexter said. “The problem is, there is only one set of prints on the gun.” His gaze turned to Sophia. “Care to explain that, Mrs. Russo?”

Like a porcelain doll, Sophia seemed to crack, with lines of hatred and anger turning her beautiful face into that of an evil witch.

“Mom,” Violet whispered as dread filled her from deep within.

“He had it coming. Theo was the broken link in our family.” Sophia started talking like a robot, ignoring George’s attempts to quiet her. “I always thought it was you, but you never wavered in your decision, and I respected that. Theo was always hardheaded, believing he knew better, a truly entitled little shit!” Her voice turned shrill.

“He brought that dark devil into our lives and into our home. If not for you, we would’ve been in jail because of him. Because of his lies and siding with the enemy. Power was all he saw in Rick Hampton. Well, he got what he deserved… living in hell alongside his cohort.”

“You… you shot him? Your own son?” Violet couldn’t breathe. She looked around the room in confusion. Her father’s gaze fell from her questioning look, as did Leo’s. “You all knew? You knew she shot him and… and you let me blame Dexter?” Her gaze turned to Tag. “How could you? You, of all of them, Tag.”

“I didn’t know, Vi.” Tag shook his head as he looked at her earnestly. “I had my back turned to them; that’s how I saw the guard aiming his gun at Theo’s head. I was going to shoot him, but Dexter was quicker.” The sadness and shock in his eyes were enough to convince her he spoke the truth. “This is the first I’m hearing about this. I know I threatened Theo, but I would never have killed him. He was my little brother. His blood was my blood. You never kill one of your own.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Tag, and don’t look at me like that, Violet,” Sophia sneered. “I did what any mother would’ve done to save her family. In our world, you always take out the weakest link. The one bad grape that could potentially rot the entire vineyard. He knew the risk, and he deserved what he got.”

“I…” Violet’s legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor. “Dear God, I can’t believe this.” She looked at Dexter. “Do the police know about this?”

“No, Violet.” Dexter placed the plastic bag with the gun and the forensic report next to Violet. “Axel saw what happened since he was next to your parents, guarding Xavier. He took the gun before the police arrived. I used a private company to do the analysis. Initially I wasn’t going to say anything, but I believe you deserve to know the truth, if only to find closure. It’s your family. You decide what to do.” His smile was forced as he stared at her for long moments.

“You deserve to be happy, Violet. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

Violet couldn’t move. Not even when the five men turned and walked out, their footsteps echoing dully down the hallway.

“I’ll take that gun,” Leo said as he walked closer. Violet snapped out of the trance and grabbed it.

“No, you won’t. Do you honestly think I would walk away from this? You are just as fucked up as Mom and Dad, Leo, if you support what Mother did.” Her eyes turned glacial. “Well? Do you?”

“As Mom said, he knew the risks. He had it coming.”

“Fuck me,” she whispered.

Her gaze drifted from one to the other, and she realized she stood alone among a family who had no regrets or honor. Her eyes locked on Tag, who watched her with tears glimmering in his eyes. In his haunted gaze, she read the memories of how he had always protected his little brother, taught him to ride a bike, and how to fight. All yanked away because he had dared to follow his own dreams.

“And you, Tag? What would you do?”

“I don’t know, Vi. I hate what Mom did, but she is my mother, and I was taught to honor your father and mother, no matter what.”

“Even if they are the ones who did you wrong? Because I know the pain that you’re carrying of losing Theo, Tag. He was your shadow. From when he was a little boy until the day he died. Yes, he might have lost the way, but you made him see the error of his ways. He wasn’t working with Hampton in the end. You know it.” She spat in the direction of her parents. “They knew it.” Her eyes dropped to the gun and the report she was clutching against her waist. Taking a deep breath, she handed it to Tag.

“It’s your call, Tag. This is your one opportunity to change your life. To walk away from the darkness and take over the vineyard. Clean up. Live a good life. Please, Taggie. I don’t want you to end up like Theo.” She smiled sadly. “I hope to God you make the right choice.”

Without another glance at her parents, she turned and ran after Dexter, praying she wasn’t too late.

“Dexter!” she screamed as she tore down the hallway, kicking off her heels as she went. She skidded to a halt in the front doorway. Dexter turned from getting into the truck as her desperate scream stopped him. Taking a deep breath, she walked down the three steps and approached him. Their gazes locked. With her chest heaving, she stopped in front of him.

“I would never have let them near any children of mine,” she said softly. “It’s a promise I made to myself when I walked away fifteen years ago. I’m not under their spell, Dexter. I have worked too hard over the years to pave my own path.”

“What about what they did to Theo?”

“I am taking a chance on the one man who is a lot like you. Deep down, he’s a good man. I’m trusting that he will do the right thing.”

“Tag?”

“Yes, and with The World Bank investigation pointing at my father and Leo… maybe Tag could start a new life.”

“That can be arranged.” He brushed the hair from her face. “Are you sure, Violet? You’re not going to regret making such a choice when your mother is convicted of murder and your father and brother jailed as mafiosos?”

“As my mother said so eloquently, they know the risks. They have it coming.”

“Very well. I’ll put the wheels in motion.” He smiled briefly, turned, and walked toward the SUV, where Axel waited patiently.

“I do have one more request,” Violet said softly.

Dexter turned back. “Whatever you need, just say the word.”

“Another chance.”

“I don’t deserve another chance, Violet. I fucked up and was wrong, so very wrong.”

“You’re not hearing me, Dex. I’m asking for another chance. For me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You are my heartbeat at night that rocks me to sleep. I need that lullaby, Dex. I need to hear it so desperately at night.” She smiled sadly. “We don’t need to rush back into it. We can take it slow. I have the rest of my life to wait for you. You are the man I love and the only one I need in my life.”

“I can’t promise you a perfect life, Violet. I’m too much of a grouch at times. I hurt you, I know that. I don’t want to do it again.”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do because I trust in my love, in your love, and in that love binding our souls together. I don’t want perfection, Dex. We’re both too volatile, and it would be so boring if we never fought. Have faith in me, my love. Have faith in our love. I do, unequivocally.”

“As I told you before, Violet… you are a fool.”

“A fool that loves you, nevertheless.”

“Then my answer is yes. You can have another chance… as long as you give me one as well. This is a two-way street, my love. If I take a chance on you, you need to take a chance on me.”

“I can do that.”

“Good… now, love. How about we seal the deal with a kiss?”

Violet didn’t hesitate. Her body moved with the certainty her heart had craved for so long. Rising on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck with one hand sliding into his thick, tousled hair. Their lips met in a kiss that started soft, tentative, as though they were testing uncharted waters. But as Dexter’s arms encircled her waist to draw her closer until their bodies aligned perfectly, the kiss deepened into something primal and consuming.

“Hmm,” she moaned as her lips parted beneath his, and the taste of him—whiskey, mint, and something uniquely Dexter—flooded her senses. Their tongues danced in a rhythm that spoke of a longing finally fulfilled as the barriers they had erected between them crumbled, and their hearts started beating in tandem. The kiss was sugar-sweet with newly declared love and months of suppressed desire. It was full of promise, like the first rays of dawn breaking through storm clouds.

Violet felt the vibration of his groan against her lips as his hands splayed across her back to press her even closer. Every point of contact between them sparked with electricity, and every breath carried whispers of tomorrow.

This wasn’t just a kiss—it was a seal on their declaration, a promise of all that was to come, and a claiming of each other’s hearts in the most fundamental way.

“Well,” Axel’s amused voice broke through their intimate moment, “looks like someone finally decided to stop being a chicken and embrace love. Though I gotta say, bro, you might wanna come up for air occasionally. Even lovesick puppies need oxygen.”

The End.