In that moment, tangled together on rumpled sheets with the scent of our lovemaking heavy in the air, forever sounds like heaven. Like everything I've ever wanted and never dared to let myself imagine.
Later, when we've cleaned up and crawled back into bed, our limbs intertwined and our hearts beating in sync, the words come spilling out of me. I tell him everything, holding nothing back - the meeting with the feds, my plans to bring down my father's criminal legacy once and for all, the future I want so desperately for us and for Matteo, far away from the blood and violence that have defined my life for so long.
He listens without judgment, his hand stroking soothingly through my hair, his heart beating steadily beneath my cheek. "We're going to make it happen," he promises, his voice fierce with conviction. "We're going to get you out, Santino. You and Matteo. And then we're going to start over, build a life together. A family."
I nod, letting his words wash over me, fill me up with a hope I've never dared to nurture. "Anywhere," I vow, sealing it with a kiss. "I'll go anywhere, as long as I have you and Matteo. Nothing else matters, not anymore."
We talk for hours, making plans and promises, painting a picture of a future that seems almost too bright to be real. By the time dawn starts to creep over the horizon, I feel lighter than I have in years, the weight of my past no longer quite so crushing.
But then my phone rings, shattering the peace of our little bubble. It's Gia, her voice tight with fear and barely leashed rage. "Santino," she says, and I know, I know before she says another word that something has gone terribly, horrifically wrong. "They know. The Romanos, they know about your deal with the feds. About your plans to leave."
Ice slides down my spine, dread pooling in my gut like lead. "How?" I demand, my mind already racing ahead, calculating risks and escape routes. "How the fuck did they find out?"
"I don't know," Gia says tightly. "But they're coming for you, fratellino. Coming to make an example of you, for daring to betray the family. You need to get out, now. Take Aaron and Matteo and run, as far and as fast as you can."
I meet Aaron's wide, worried gaze, seeing my own fear reflected back at me. "What about you?" I ask my sister, hating the way my voice shakes. "Gia, you're in just as much danger as I am. Come with us, please."
"I can't," she says, and I can hear the regret, the sorrow in her voice. "Someone has to stay behind, to cover your tracks. To buy you as much time as possible."
"Gia," I choke out, grief and guilt clawing at my throat. "Don't do this. Don't sacrifice yourself for me, not again."
"It's not a sacrifice," she says fiercely. "It's a choice, Santino. A choice I make gladly, because you're my brother and I love you. Now go, before it's too late. Give Matteo a kiss for me."
The line goes dead, and I let the phone slip from my numb fingers, my heart shattering in my chest. Aaron is there in an instant, his arms coming around me, holding me together as I shake apart.
"We have to go," I rasp when I can speak again, pulling away to meet his gaze. "Aaron, I'm so sorry. I never meant for you to be caught up in this, in my mess."
He shakes his head, his jaw set with determination. "I'm exactly where I'm meant to be," he says firmly. "By your side, Santino. No matter what comes."
I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I take one last, lingering look around the study, the room where I've made so many hard choices, so many brutal sacrifices. Then I take Aaron's hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. "Let's go get our boy," I say roughly. "It's time to leave this place behind."
We're halfway to Gia's house, the dawn just starting to paint the sky in shades of rose and gold, when the ambush happens. One moment the street is quiet, empty, and the next there are black SUVs surrounding us, the squeal of tires and the bark of semi-automatic gunfire shattering the morning calm.
I curse viciously, slamming on the brakes and throwing the car into reverse. But it's too late, they're already on us, masked men with weapons pouring out of the vehicles like a swarm of locusts.
"Get down," I yell at Aaron, shoving him behind me as I draw my gun. "Stay behind me, no matter what happens."
He nods, his face pale but determined. I spare a moment to brush a hand over his cheek, to try and convey everything I'm feeling with a single, searing look. Then I'm moving, lunging out of the car and into the fray, my weapon barking in my hand as I put myself between the man I love and the hail of bullets.
I take down three, four, five of them before the first bullet finds its mark, slamming into my shoulder with a burst of blinding pain. I stumble, nearly going to my knees, but I force myself to keep moving, to keep fighting.
For Aaron, for Matteo, for the future I so desperately want for us.
But there are too many of them, coming at me from all sides with a ruthless, single-minded focus. A second bullet grazes my thigh, a third buries itself in my gut with a sickening, wrenching impact.
I feel myself falling, the world going gray and hazy at the edges. I hear Aaron screaming my name, hear the rage and desperation in his voice as he empties his own clip into our attackers.
Then he's there, gathering me into his arms, his face swimming above me like a vision. "Hold on, Santino," he begs, his hands pressing frantically against the wounds in my flesh, trying to stem the crimson tide. "Please, baby, hold on. Don't leave me, not now. Not like this."
I try to speak, to tell him that I love him, that I'm sorry, that he has to run, has to save himself and Matteo. But the words won't come, trapped behind the copper tang of blood in my throat.
The last thing I see before the darkness takes me is his face, streaked with tears and contorted with a grief so raw it steals the breath from my failing lungs.
And then there's nothing but the void, cold and yawning and so terribly, terribly final.
CHAPTER 8
AARON