Page 22 of Bound By Honor

Without a second thought, I launch myself at Bello as his hand dives into his jacket for his gun. Our bodies collide with a thud, and we crash to the ground, limbs entwined as we grapple for control of the weapon. It skitters across the cold, unforgiving concrete floor, slipping just out of reach. As our movements catch the attention of Bello's goons, they burst in with shocked expressions.

But they are too slow to react—weeks of pent-up rage and desperation have transformed me into an unstoppable force. With each punch and kick, I channel all my anger and determination into a ferocious storm of retribution. Despite their skills, tonight, I am something else entirely—a beast defending his mate.

One by one, they drop to the ground with a thud until it’s just Bello and me left standing. He frantically scrambles toward the gun lying on the ground, but I quickly tackle him down before he can reach it. We struggle fiercely, our bodies writhing against each other in a desperate battle for control. Finally, with my hand tightly gripping his throat, he goes still.

In the aftermath of chaos, a haunting quiet settles in as my heavy breaths reverberate off the cold metal walls. My hands shake as I free Sofia from her bonds, and she collapses into my arms, shaking with sobs. A mixture of relief and pain washes over us both as we cling to each other amidst the wreckage that surrounds us.

Sofia shakes with emotion as she whispers, "I knew you'd come. I never doubted it for a second." She clings to me, herarms wrapped tightly around my neck as I lift her and hold her against my chest. Her tears soak into my shirt, but I don't mind. All that matters is that she’s safe, and I’m taking her home.

“I love you, Rocco. I love you,” Sofia whispers between breaths, clutching onto me like a lifeline as I stroke her hair gently, promising that nothing will hurt her again as long as I breathe.

"You are my world," I murmur back to her, my heart overflowing with love and devotion. As I hold her close, nothing matters more than Sofia.

19

EPILOGUE: SOFIA

TWO MONTHS LATER

The flames flicker in the fireplace, casting a warm glow across the room, making the snow falling outside seem like another world entirely. Rocco sits next to me, his arm resting lazily around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. The house has never felt more like home than it does tonight.

"I keep thinking about Spain and our time on the island.” My fingers trace a delicate pattern on Rocco's knee. The rough fabric of his jeans he’s wearing tonight starkly contrasts the smooth, cool sand where we lay together under the twinkling stars in Spain. The gentle lapping of the foamy surf against our toes added to the serene atmosphere of our secret beach hideaway.

Rocco chuckles softly, his warm breath stirring my hair. "Which part do you keep thinking about?" he asks, knowing my mind is still lost in memories. "The crystal-clear waters or our midnight adventures?"

I feel myself blush and bury my head deeper into his side. "Maybe a bit of both," I admit with a shy smile. "But mostly, howthe moonlight danced on your skin, making me feel like I was making love to a Greek god."

Rocco turns to face me, his gaze like a tender caress that turns my skin to gooseflesh. His eyes, the color of rich chocolate, are filled with adoration and a sense of wonder, as if he can't believe I'm really here. "You were absolutely radiant," he whispers. "I think I fell in love with you all over again."

The memory of our wedding day floods back to me, filling me with warmth and joy.

"I've never been happier," he continues, his hand reaching out to intertwine with mine. Our fingers fit together like puzzle pieces, a perfect match.

Outside, the wind howls against the windows, but there's only warmth and quiet contentment inside. This is where I belong, in Rocco's arms, surrounded by love and happiness.

I don’t want to dwell on the events of two months ago. The memory of my father's disgrace and our family's subsequent banishment from the council still weighs heavily on me. Whispers and gossip spread like wildfire. But even amid grief and chaos, no one dared blame Rocco for killing Antonio. The fear of retaliation drove the council to exile Bello’s brothers, Alessio and Dominic, to Chicago, where they will be under constant watch by the ruthless Outfit. It was a harsh punishment but necessary to maintain the fragile balance of power within our world.

"Remember that last night?" Rocco asks. His voice drops to a whisper as if he’s sharing a precious secret meant only for our ears. "When you pointed out the constellations you knew and invented stories about the ones you didn’t?"

I laugh at the memory. "My stories weren’t that bad. If anything, they should be included in an island travel guide."

"They should be—very entertaining," Rocco agrees, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I sigh contentedly and allow myself to get lost in other memories—the way the ocean lapped at our feet as we walked along the beach at dawn, how our laughter seemed to mingle with the tides. It feels like a dream now, those perfect days suspended in time when it was just us and an endless canvas of blue skies and even bluer waters.

As another log shifts in the fireplace, sparks fly momentarily, drawing our attention back to the room filled with soft shadows and quiet whisperings of our shared bliss.

"We should go back someday," I suggest softly, almost hesitant to break the serenity enveloping us.

"Absolutely," Rocco replies without missing a beat. "It will always be a special place."

“Everywhere is special when we’re together.” I take a deep breath and let my fingers trace the sharp angle of his jaw, barely visible through his salt-and-pepper beard. “I love being your wife.”

“I never thought I’d get married. Now I realize I was just waiting for you.”

Heat envelops me, not just from the roaring fire crackling in front of us but from Rocco’s body pressing against mine. His hands, strong and reassuring, trace paths down my spine, sending shivers that compete with the warmth of the fire. Our breaths mix and mingle in the dark, quiet room, the occasional pop from the fireplace punctuating our whispered declarations of love.

"I need you, beautiful girl. I need you right now," Rocco whispers against my lips, then lifts me off the couch and sets me down in front of the fireplace.

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