Tomorrow, we'll run. Tomorrow, we'll start over.
Tonight, we're just two people who found love in the middle of chaos, holding onto each other like we're each other's anchor in a storm.
And maybe that's enough.
Maybe that's everything.
CHAPTER 27
Sofia
The safehouse isquiet except for Dante's steady breathing beside me. Dawn light filters through the dusty windows, painting everything in soft grays and golds. His arm is draped across my waist, heavy and warm, anchoring me to this moment I wish could last forever.
For the first time in my life, I don't want to run.
The irony isn't lost on me. All those months of planning escapes, of dreaming about freedom, and now that I finally have someone worth staying for, I have to leave. My chest aches with the weight of it—this terrible, necessary choice.
Dante's face is peaceful in sleep, the harsh lines of anger and violence smoothed away. There's a small scar above his left eyebrow I never noticed before. I want to trace it with my fingertip, memorize every detail of him, but I can't risk waking him. Not when I'm about to do the hardest thing I've ever done.
I know what he'd say if I tried to explain. He'd tell me his loyalty to Vito doesn't matter, that he's already chosen me over everything else. But that's exactly the problem. Dante's given fifteen years of his life to the Rosso family. He's bled for them,killed for them, built his entire identity around being Vito's enforcer. And now he's ready to throw it all away because of me.
I can't let him do that. Not when I know what it really means.
Carefully, I slip out from under his arm. He stirs slightly, mumbling something I can't make out, and my heart clenches. Every instinct screams at me to crawl back into bed, to wake him up and tell him I've changed my mind about running. But this isn't about what I want anymore.
Moving silently, I gather my clothes from where they were scattered across the floor. Each piece feels heavy in my hands, weighted with the memory of how Dante removed them, how his eyes tracked every inch of skin he revealed. I dress quickly, my fingers shaking as I button my shirt.
The hardest part is writing the letter.
I find a piece of paper in one of the kitchen drawers and sit at the small table, pen hovering over the blank page. What do you say to someone you love when you're about to break both your hearts?
Dante,
By the time you read this, I'll be gone. Please don't come after me.
I know you think your loyalty to Vito doesn't matter, but it does. You've spent years building something with him, becoming someone important. I won't let you destroy that for me. You say you've already chosen, but I'm making a different choice.
What we had last night was real. What I feel for you is real. But sometimes love means protecting someone from their own sacrifice.
You gave me something I never thought I'd have—the feeling of being chosen, of being wanted for who I am instead of what I represent. That's enough. It has to be.
Don't let Vito blame you for this. Tell him I drugged you, that you couldn't have stopped me. It's not a lie—I would have found a way to leave regardless. This is my decision, not your failure.
Find someone who can love you without costing you everything.
Sofia
P.S. - I was wrong about one thing. I was never your prisoner. You were mine.
My hands shake as I fold the letter and place it on his pillow where he'll see it immediately. For a moment, I almost lose my resolve. His dark hair is messy from sleep, and there's a softness to his features that makes him look younger. This is the Dante only I get to see—not the enforcer, not the killer, just the man who calls me princess like it's a prayer.
I force myself to turn away.
The morning air is crisp and cold, cutting through my thin jacket as I step outside. I don't have much—some cash I'd stashed away, the clothes on my back, and a small bag withessentials. It's not enough for a new life, but it's enough to disappear.
I start walking, keeping to the tree line where the shadows will hide me from any passing cars. The forest floor is uneven, full of roots and rocks that catch at my feet. Within an hour, my sneakers are soaked through from the dew and my feet are starting to blister.
But I keep walking.
