Page 159 of King Of Order

On the table, the meal was a feast of celebration.

Plates of fresh seafood—clams, prawns, and delicate white fish—lay alongside bowls of pasta tossed with olive oil, garlic, and chili.

Thick cuts ofbistecca alla Fiorentinasizzled from the grill, cooked to perfection, with rosemary and sea salt crusting the outside.

The sight of it all—the spread, the abundance, and the aroma—made my stomach rumble in anticipation.

‘Pass the champagne,’ Alessio called out, grinning as he reached for the bottle. ‘The grappa was not enough to celebrate.’

His hand was still bandaged from the fight, but it didn’t stop him from twisting the cork out with a pop and pouring the sparkling liquid into everyone’s glasses.

The essence and bursts of fizzing bubbly filled the air as we lifted our flutes, ready to toast.

I raised my glass. ‘To Chiara,’ I said, my voice steady but thick with emotion. ‘For being braver than any of us and sticking with me through all this. I couldn’t have done it without her.’

Chiara blushed beside me, her fingers tightening on my leg.

I leaned in, brushing my lips against her temple as the others cheered.

She’d earned that salute and more.

There was a quiet shift among us as the champagne fizzed in our glasses, and the food disappeared from our plates. A collective sigh of relief, a recognition that we were free. Of the threats and the game that consumed us for too long.

‘So,’ Alessio reclined, wiping his mouth with a napkin. ‘Where to next? You staying here in Naples or -?’

‘No way,’ I said, cutting into the steak on my plate. ‘We’re done with this town.’ I glanced at Chiara, who nodded in agreement, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. ‘We’re coming with you mofos, to Australia. Far away from this mess.’

‘A fresh start?’ Lorenzo gave me a knowing look, raising his glass again. ‘Or are you fuckers just dying to be next to us?’

‘Fuck off,’ I cursed at him. ‘Un saccente! Such as smart ass.’

Lorenzo chuckled. ‘On a solemn note, it’ll be good to have you close by.’

‘Si, mother hen,’ I shot back.

Lorenzo was morphing into full protective mode. Something about being a father brought his possessiveness even more, his wings flapping over all his hens and chicks in his purview.

Fotto, the number of times he’d pushed me to make a move down under had driven me crazy.

Now, finally, the time was right.

‘You’ll adore Australia, Chiara,’ Lorenzo drawled, pointing a fork at my woman. ‘To be honest, you deserve its peace. You both do.’

‘We all freakin’ deserve it,’ I rasped.

‘To freedom,’ Lorenzo declared, his glass lifted high. ‘To a new life filled with devotion, passion, and fuckin’ peace.’

‘To us,’ Alessio added with a grin, clinking his glass against mine. ‘And to Rio, who’s got the biggest balls of us all.’

I chuckled, shaking my head. ‘Mortadella! Your loser ass belongs to me.’

Chiara raised a brow. ‘I’m beginning to wonder about all the balls and ass chat. What gives?’

We spent the rest of the evening eating, laughing, and planning our escape from Naples and our next steps.

The night was lighthearted and carefree, and it became more so with each bite of food and every clink of glasses. We were leaving, and the burden of the past was lifting.

I planned to relocate Ciprioni Security to Sydney and set up the HQ down under, which wasn’t a hassle given our global clientele.

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