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October 14 - October 28, 2025
“Even when they hurt me, I thought of you, and I knew it would be okay.”
“I will always come for you,” he swore. “Across oceans and any degree of space or time, I will come for you.”
“I’m sorry you had to grow up in this crazy family. Thanks for giving me a normal childhood.”
“You kidnapped my daughter,” Dad snapped, stepping away to face her with me tucked under his arm. “You gave me no choice.”
“I love you too,” I murmured into her hair only to have her drop me unceremoniously on my feet and push me lightly in mock distaste.
“I would not have smiled for a long time if you had died,” he told me somberly in English.
“I’ve been reasonable all my life,” I countered. “It hasn’t worked well for me. And I won’t be reasonable about this. Raffa should not have to pretend to date my aunt for political gain.”
I tried to ignore the little arrogant smirk on Raffa’s face, but it was hard not to match the grin with one of my own.
“Martina . . .” Raffa warned, grin collapsing into a dark look. “Do not.”
“Absolutely not,” Dad said, shooting to his feet to point a vibrating finger at Raffa. “No fucking way, Romano. I agreed to work with you to help my daughter, but I do not approve. Not one fucking bit.”
“Marriage, Vera,” he said quietly, but the words seemed to reverberate like a struck bell. “They are speaking of marriage.”
Someone—Martina and Carmine, I thought—laughed a little.
“You are not usually so slow to understand. You must still have water in your ears.” A grin tugged at my mouth at his teasing, but before I could jibe back, he continued, “The only eligible Pietra left to marry, Guinevere. You.”
“She is not marrying you, Romano. Guinevere is going back to Michigan as soon as we can get a flight out of this place. She is not staying in Italy, and she is certainly not marrying a known felon.”
“Her father is one, so I don’t see why it should matter,” Ludo said.
“Guinevere is not staying in Italy.” “Dad,” I said, reaching forward to grab his hand and tug him reluctantly back into his seat. “I am staying.”
“I’ve never been less ridiculous in my life,” I deadpanned. 249 “For a boy?” he stressed. “Your mother and I raised you better than that.” “You did,”
“I won’t marry for Mafia politics,” I agreed. “And I won’t marry anyone who doesn’t ask me.”
But there was cool, quiet rage in those black-velvet eyes and a tiny curl to her red-ribbon lips.
“Come sit,” she suggested, waiting for me to do so before she handed me the glass of sambuca.
I blinked at her, too exhausted and wrung out emotionally to wonder if her composure was a good thing or bad.
“Philippe clearly is not the only one,” Renzo agreed. “And Guinevere has a point. Apart from Tonio and Leo, we do not have many men we trust overseeing operations there.”
“Are you saying I don’t have a handle on things with the Romano Group?” Leo asked over my shoulder as he placed his stool beside Renzo at the table.
“I think that’s enough for the night,” she said with cool authority. “Leave us, will you?”
Leo hesitated, gaze darting between Guinevere and me, but Carmine got up with a burp and helped Ludo collect his various tech, and Renzo clapped me on the back before going to lever the dead body into a wheelbarrow.
“I want you to fuck me right here,” she said. “I want to take you inside me in the very place you feel like your worst self, knowing that I can handle it.”
“She sleeps like the dead when she feels safe,” he said finally, his voice coarse with emotion. “Though I still don’t know how my sweet girl could trust someone like you, Romano.”
“You saw what I did to get her back from the Pietras,” I said instead. “She trusts that there is nothing I would not do to make her safe and happy.”
There was only one path my life had been directing me down all these years, and it led through hell all the way to the throne of the devil himself.
“I need him too,” I offered simply. “When he’s finished his meeting with Renzo, I intend to tell him just how much.”
“Oh God,” I cried, and I meant him.
“I think you killed me,” I said softly. “When I said I would die for you, I didn’t exactly mean at your own hands.”
but I can promise that space won’t be the Atlantic Ocean and that time won’t be two months.” “Seven weeks and five days,” he corrected solemnly.
“I think it’s time you taught me how to be la tua cacciatrice.” The most beautiful smile I’d ever seen, full of love and laughter, claimed my kiss-swollen mouth.
I wondered what Gemma would have thought of the mess Mom, Dad, and I found ourselves in, and decided she would have loved it. Chaos was her happy place, and truth was her comfort.
“Is it really worth knowing you could die because of him?” “Yes,” I said simply. “When life isn’t worth living without him.”
“You are willing to give up everything you’ve ever known for your Raffa, just as your father was for me,” she said softly,
“He’s not a bad man,” I told her in a threadbare voice. “In fact, he’s the best man I know.” “So is your father,” she said. “I understand, honey. More than I can say. I won’t stand between you and happiness.”
“Of course it is,” he said, voice bright with pleased surprise. “If you would consider it, I would hire you right here and now to work with me.” “Really?”
“Well, I am looking for a job now that I plan to stay here . . .” I teased, leaning into his questing mouth at my jaw. “But it might be a conflict of interest, given I’m sleeping with the boss.”
“It’s good to know you think I’m more than just a pretty face,” I joked, and kissed his chin.
There was something about the way he said it, defensive almost, aggressive definitely. Like his ability to protect had come into question, and he was determined to prove his worth.
“You aren’t marrying her, Romano,” he said, startling me with his perceptiveness. The smile I gave him was wolfish. “She wants to be with me, Stone. Forever.”
“Do not contradict how Guinevere has spoken of you and be condescending now,” I said blandly.
“I cannot have been the only who heard her say she would not marry anyone who did not ask her the other day in the castello,” I added.
“All this is unspeakably wonderful,” she said, gesturing to our surroundings. “But it’s you I can’t take my eyes off.”
“I had it retrieved from the bowl. It is better that the man who loves you and is capable of and willing to give you whatever you want knows the desires of your heart than some priest in a chapel, no?”
“He strung him up in the Square of Miracles in Pisa, in the very same place Gaetano had told him to come if he ever wanted to see you alive again,” Martina said,
“Obviously I’ll be your bridesmaid,” Martina told me. “But don’t you dare put me in a dress.” “Deal,”
“Do you know which wire to cut?” Carm asked doubtfully. “I should.” “Wow, that instills confidence,” Carmine muttered.
