Page 35 of Silent Night With Alessio

He catches me staring, his eyes meeting mine with a knowing look, and my cheeks heat as flashes of memories from our night together drift into my mind…his touch, his mouth against mine, the way his hands roam over me as if I’m the only thing in the world he wants to hold.

I can’t help it; I giggle, biting my lip to keep the flush of heat from spreading up my neck. Alessio raises a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips, but he says nothing. I remind myself thatthere’s time for that later. For now, I have to keep myself focused on the celebration.

All around us, the great and powerful of Winter Haven mingle, their laughter bright and bold, their joy unfettered.

They’re dressed in elegant, dark winter coats, furs draped over their shoulders, jeweled collars sparkling under the dim glow of lanterns hanging from every post.

The entire town square is dressed in winter finery, and I can’t help but feel like I’m in a fairytale.

Yet, as beautiful as the scene is, there’s a thrill of it all…. a slight edge. In a place like Winter Haven, no gathering is ever without layers, without tension humming just under the surface.

It’s a reminder of the world I’m now a part of, a world where allegiances can shift as swiftly as the wind, where one wrong step could mean your last.

But with Alessio’s hand in mine, I feel steady, anchored. For the first time, I understand what it means to take a risk and still feel safe.

It’s hard not to miss the fact that the Gufo family is nowhere in sight. The absence hangs in the air like an unsaid word, an omission that’s both loud and silent.

I lean closer to Alessio, and he inclines his head, his mouth brushing my ear as he whispers, “They won’t dare show their faces here. Not after what happened.”

He doesn’t need to say more, but I raise a brow, urging him on. A shadow flickers across his features, a darkness tempered by the satisfaction I see in his eyes.

“Let’s just say,” he murmurs, his hand tightening around mine, “they were dealt with thoroughly. Some of them will never walk again for what they tried to do. The Luciana ring will stay where it belongs. By any means necessary.”

I feel a ripple of relief at his words. We’d gone through hell to retrieve that ring, the symbol of the Luciana family’s honor and lineage.

Losing it had nearly shattered their pride, a humiliation no cardinal family could bear. “Does anyone know it was stolen?” I ask softly, conscious of the people mingling around us. Alessio’s mouth curves into a smirk.

“Not a soul. We released an official statement claiming the ring at the auction was a fake, a pathetic replica crafted by the Gufos to undermine us. No one’s got any idea.” There’s pride in his voice, pride in the cleverness, the subtlety of it all.

The Luciana had won this round, and they’d done it with dignity intact. The feeling of triumph settles over me like a warm coat, and I can’t help but smile, knowing I had played a part in restoring their honor.

Alessio’s eyes soften as he watches me, and he lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. The slight gesture ignites a spark of joy within me. “And,” he adds, “we freed the jeweler they’d kidnapped. He’s safe now, back with his family.”

My shoulders loosen, the unnoticed burden I’d been carrying quietly dissolving.

Relief washes over me as I grasp that the innocent man swept up in this war is finally safe. I squeeze Alessio’s hand, the warmth of his skin radiating into mine and grounding me at the moment.

This is what I love about him, not just the fierceness, the fire, but the softness he reveals only to me.

As the music shifts, I turn my attention back to the ceremony unfolding before us. Massimo steps forward, his figure commanding in the heavy winter coat he wears, trimmed with fur that lends him an almost regal air.

He holds his head high, the Luciana signet ring gleaming on his finger as he approaches the room. Only the heads of the cardinal families stamp their rings.

Massimo goes first, and others take turns once he comes out, leaving their mark upon the book, stamping their rings into it to signify their allegiance and their legacy in this town.

When the ceremony concludes, the book is placed on a podium in the town hall, a centerpiece of the festivities.

The band plays, and the music fills the air once more, a vibrant melody that lifts the spirits of everyone around. The celebration continues, laughter and joy weaving through the crowd as people dance, drink, and embrace each other.

And as I stand here, watching the people of Winter Haven revel in the warmth of their heritage, I feel a profound sense of contentment. This town, this family, this man beside me…they are all a part of me now.

As the night wears on, Alessio and I slip away from the crowd, making our way back to the Bellini Lodge. The streets are quieter now; the revelry dimming as the early hours creep in, and a soft snowfall drifts from the sky, blanketing the ground in a delicate layer of white.

The warmth of the lodge embraces us as we step inside, the crackling fire casting a soft glow over the room.

I turn to Alessio, my heart pounding as I take him in…. tall, strong, his face softened by the flickering light.

He’s been my rock, my anchor in this strange, beautiful world I’ve found myself in. And now, as we stand here alone, the memories of the ball, the laughter, the sense of belonging all fade away, leaving only him and me.

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