I step back, needing space to say what I needed to say. His nearness still gets to me—it always will. My stomach twists with the thought of a life without him. What I’m about to say isn’t what Ishould, but love, even unreturned, doesn’t just disappear. And heartbreak? That shit still hurts.
“I loved you,” I whisper. “Gave you everything I had. Young or not, I knew who you were. I knew what this club was. I knew what our life together would’ve looked like, and I was ready for it. I knewyouwere it for me. Felt it in my bones.”
I pause, glancing around the room. My voice wavers.
“But I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready to walk in and see you with someone else. You showed me I’m not it for you. And that’s okay.”
Something breaks within him because a sound comes from his throat—low and pained. I feel it, too. I release a stuttering breath because it’s too late.
I walk toward the door. At the threshold, I turn back one last time, punishing myself by memorizing him. His face. His regret. His destruction. I shift both bags into one hand and grab the doorknob.
“I hope you find someone you can love with your whole heart,” I say, voice calm, but heavy. “Not someone you see as a challenge or a prize. Because not everyone is a game, Talon. Not everyone wants to be conquered. There are consequences. Serious ones. And you need to remember that.”
He inhales sharply. I know he gets it. Iknowhe knows I know.
“I hope you grow up,” I add. “And when you do, maybe it’ll be beautiful. I really do hope that. May the next girl give you all the hell you deserve.”
My voice cracks—barely.
“This…” I point between us. “This could’ve been everything. Could’ve beenbeautiful, if you weren’t… well,you.”
I gesture to the bed. “That right there? That could’ve cost you more than you’ll ever know. More than just me.”
“Gabriella, don’t—” he starts.
But I’m already walking out. Those are the last words I’ll ever hear from him. I say nothing as I leave the clubhouse. Nothing, as I toss my bags into the back seat. I pause, staring up at the sky. My chest shakes. My throat burns. My eyes sting, but I hold it in.
Not here. Not now.
I climb into the car, start the engine, and pull away. I make it to the gate before I feel it—the pull. The voice in my head is begging me to look back. I fight it. Then I give in. He’s outside. Talon. A few of his brothers were behind him, watching me leave. I can’t make out his face completely, but whatever he’s feeling? It doesn’t matter. His choices brought us here. Me walking away—that’s the consequence. He could’ve had someone who loved him, utterly and completely. But now?
Too late.
This chapter of my life is over. It’s time I return to who I was always meant to be.
I’m Gabriella Maribel Barone and I’m a motherfucking Mafia Princess who will never allow another man to break me.
One
Knowing your worth means walking away even if you don’t want to.
Present day
Isit across from my brother, stewing and boiling in silence. Every inhale feels like smoke filling my lungs. My jaw’s so tight I can feel the pressure climb up into my temples, the kind of clench that ends in a headache—or a fistfight. My eyes twitch, narrow, sharp, and slitted, full of heat and warnings. If looks could kill, Sammy would be buried without a ceremony by now. With my silence, his frustration grows. He sighs and drags a hand down his freshly shaved face like he’s the one under stress. Like he has to reopen old wounds with a smile on his face.
“This is business, Gabriella,” he says, already sounding tired of me before I even say a word. “Don’t give me that look. You knew this day would come. Be happy you get to take your entourage. I know how you can’t leave home without them. It'll be good for all of you.”
He clicks his tongue at me, and something inside me snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight. He might as well have patted me on the head and called mekiddo. My narrowed eyes turn into a full-on mug that would’ve made a lesser man fold. But Sammy? He just meets it.
His face shifts—hard Don slipping, softer brother trying to surface. That familiar mix of arrogance and affection in his eyes. I know that look. I used to fall for it.
But not today.
“It’s not working,” I say flatly, voice cold as stone.
The softness dies quick. His expression hardens, his jaw tightens, and his spine straightens. Don Barone steps back into the room, replacing Sammy in a blink. That weight in his gaze drops like a gavel. Judgment. Command. The reminder ofwho he is—and what I am expected to be.
To everyone else, my brother isLa Morte.The Deathwrapped in a fine suit and a sharper reputation. The man no one dares cross. But to me? He’s just Sammy. My big brother. My protector. The one who used to carry me on his back when he needed to make me smile, punched my first boyfriend for making me cry, and tucked me in at night when our father was too busy.
