Page 7 of And Back

His embrace is firm but tender. In his arms, the horrors of the past fade away momentarily, replaced by an overwhelming sense of belonging and safety.

I close my eyes and breathe him in—his familiar scent mingling with the faint traces of cologne he always wears. The rhythm of his heartbeat steadies mine, grounding me in this moment where nothing else matters but us.

We stand there for what feels like an eternity but also no time at all. Just holding on to each other.

I look up at him, my eyes brimming with tears that I can no longer hold back. His eyes search mine. Without a word, I reach up and pull his face down to mine, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s been years in the making.

The kiss is a torrent of emotions—longing, grief, and an overwhelming love that I’ve kept locked away for so long. Every tear I’ve shed believing he was dead, every night I spent hoping against hope that he might somehow still be alive, it all pours into this moment.

Virgilio’s hands cup my face gently but firmly, as if he’s afraid I might vanish if he lets go. The world outside fades away, as his lips move against mine with a desperate urgency, each kiss conveying all the love and regret he’s harbored over the years.

I can feel the years of pain and sorrow melting away as our kiss deepens. The warmth of his mouth against mine is like a lifeline pulling me out of the abyss I’ve been trapped in for so long. My fingers thread through his short, buzzed hair, anchoring myself to him, afraid to let go.

His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me even closer until there’s no space left between us. Every touch is a silent apology, every caress a promise that he’s here now and won’t let me go again. My tears mingle with our kiss, but they’re tears of relief now.

Our kiss eventually slows, our lips lingering for just a moment longer before we finally break apart. Both of us are breathless, our chests rising and falling in sync. I keep my arms wrapped around his neck, not ready to let go. My eyes search his face, taking in every detail—the curve of his lips, the intensity in his eyes, trying to reconcile the man before me with the one I know. He’s still wearing contact lenses, and his hair is still dyed the wrong color. I can only partially recognize his features through the scars and the disguise. He is really here! I reassure myself that this isn't another cruel trick of my mind.

"Virgilio," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. I feel the name on my lips, a name that holds so much weight, so much history. "Virgilio," I repeat, savoring each syllable like it's a precious gift. His name is the key to all the truths I've uncovered, the man I've always loved despite everything.

He looks at me with a bittersweet smile that tugs at my heartstrings. "I’ve missed you so much, Zoe," he says, his voice choked with emotion. His words are a balm to my wounded soul, confirming that he felt the same void that I did all these years.

"Let's go home now," he murmurs softly.

Virgilio's hand slips into mine, his grip warm and reassuring as he leads me to his car.

And just like that, for the first time in what feels like forever, I feel like I'm finally heading home.

CHAPTER SIX

VIRGILIO

Isit beside Zoe on the couch in the drawing room.

Her presence beside me feels like a lifeline. I lean in and kiss her again, feeling her soft lips against mine, thankful beyond words that she is safe. Her hands tremble slightly as they rest on my chest, but she doesn’t pull away. I finally break the kiss and look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you immediately that I was Virgilio."

Zoe’s eyes search mine, and she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. "Are you ready to tell me everything now?"

I nod slowly. This moment is long overdue. "Yes," I say firmly. "But you have to promise me something first."

She furrows her brows slightly but doesn't break eye contact. "What is it?"

"Promise me you won't run away from me," I plead, my voice raw with the fear of losing her again.

Zoe nods resolutely. "I promise. I won't run away."

I take a deep breath, feeling Zoe's eyes on me, waiting. "Growing up, my father wasn't just a criminal; he was a monster," I start, my voice rough. "His empire was built on fear and brutality. Every day was a lesson in survival. There was no room for weakness."

Zoe’s fingers tighten around mine, her blue eyes softening with empathy. I find the strength to continue, her silent support grounding me.

"My brother Dante and I... we were put through hell," I say, recalling the endless drills and harsh punishments. "We were trained to fight from the moment we could walk. Our father believed that pain made us stronger. He was wrong. It just made us numb."

Zoe’s thumb brushes over my knuckles, a gentle reminder that I’m not alone at this moment. "Tell me more about Dante," she urges softly.

"Dante... he was my protector," I say, my voice breaking slightly at the memory. "He took the brunt of our father's wrath so many times. Then, when I was seventeen, our father went too far. He wanted to hit me with a chair, but Dante stepped in front of me. The blow... it put him in a coma for four months."

Zoe gasps quietly, her eyes widening with horror. "Oh my God, Virgilio..."

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