Page 49 of Mafia Heir's Broken Vows

I shake my head. "Not exactly. But I'm not looking back." The anger and regret I feel for this place run too deep for anything else.

She lets out a long, slow breath, her shoulders relaxing. Relief softens her face, the hard edges melting away. She leans into my hand, closing her eyes for a moment. The trust she places in me is both a gift and a weight I carry willingly.

"What now?" she asks, voice barely above a whisper.

I glance at Leo, peaceful and unaware. His small hands are busy with his toy cars, his world untouched by the darkness we've left behind. Then I look back at Serafina, meeting her gaze. "Now, we need to leave before he realizes I wasn't bluffing."

The road stretches endlessly aheadof us, winding through the hills, leading to nowhere and everywhere. The city behind us—a distant, fading ember. It's a relief to leave it behind, but the shadows of that place cling to me like smoke.

Serafina rests her head against the window, her profile illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard lights. Leo is singing along to the radio in the back seat, his small voice breaking through the heavy silence. He's not going to win Pop Idol, but singing makes him happy. I steal a glance at them, my heart swelling and breaking all at once. They're my everything now.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my father's words echoing in the back of my mind.

You'll lose everything.

But as I look at them—my family—I know he was wrong. I've lost nothing and gained everything.

"What are you muttering about?" Serafina's quiet voice pulls me back to reality. She turns her head slightly, her lips curling into a small smile. I must have been talking to myself without realizing it.

I shake my head slowly. "Nothing."

Her hand reaches across the console, fingers intertwining with mine. Her touch is soft, grounding me in the present. "Careful, or we might have you committed if you start talkingto yourself." She giggles, her smile lighting up her face, momentarily chasing away the darkness.

I smirk, squeezing her hand lightly. "I'm suddenly self-employed. It was a staff meeting." The joke is dry, but it works. Her laughter is the kind of music I need to hear.

Freedom lies ahead of us now, even if the shadows of the past linger behind. But there's also a prickle of doubt, a seed of fear. The mafia doesn't just let men leave—there's always a price to pay.

I don't think I'll ever stop looking over my shoulder. But with them beside me, I know I'll never stop fighting for this freedom.

ALESSANDRO

The morning air is fresh as we stand on the private airstrip, the sky still cloaked in the faint purple of pre-dawn. The sleek, all-black jet shines in the bright runway lights, its engines spooling up to carry us away. Around me, my last trusted men—those who dared to come with me—are securing every detail of our departure. They hustle around the tarmac, and I catch the brief glances they exchange—respectful, but filled with uncertainty. This isn't just a business trip. They know it's a one-way journey. If they come with me, they'll never return. If they stay, they'll never see me again.

I watch the horizon, where the first light begins to bleed into the sky. The world is so still—like the dead quiet before a storm. For once, I know the storm isn't coming. Not yet.

Behind me, Serafina stands close, Leo next to her, jabbering about the plane. His wide-eyed excitement is a sharp contrast to the weight in my chest. I envy his innocence and the way he sees this as an adventure. For him, it is. For me, it's the final chapter of a life I no longer want.

I step closer to Serafina, brushing my hand over her arm. The contact grounds me and reminds me of why I'm doing this.

"It's all set," I say quietly. "The villa is ready. Security is in place. No one will find us." The lie tastes bittersweet. There are no guarantees, only hope and precautions. But it's all I can give her.

Serafina lifts her gaze to mine, uncertainty shadowing her eyes. We both want to believe this is our fresh start, but the past has been cruel. Trust doesn't come easily—not even now.

"Do you really think this is enough? To keep us safe? To keep him safe?" she asks, her voice soft but steady.

I cup her face, my thumb gently brushing her cheek. She leans into my touch, her warmth melting a fraction of the tension coiling in my chest. I kiss her cheek, slow and deliberate, like a promise.

"It's enough," I say, my voice firm even as doubt gnaws at me. "This is our fresh start." If they come for me, I'll make sure they never get to her.

Her lips part like she wants to argue, but then she leans forward and kisses me back, her soft lips tasting faintly of cherries. When she pulls back, there's a faint smile on her face—a flicker of trust I don't deserve but will do anything to keep.

"Then let's go," she murmurs.

I look at the jet again—a symbol of both escape and the unknown. It's freedom and exile, all at once. But for them, I'll bear it.

Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I guide her forward. Leo bounds up the steps ahead of us, his excitement filling the air. He's brimming with joy at the idea of flying in the sky, oblivious to the weight of what we're leaving behind.

The jet engineswhine as we soar above the clouds. City lights fade beneath us, shrinking to tiny, insignificant sparks swallowed by the clouds. I stare through the window, watching the world disappear beneath us—the city, the power, the weight of the D'Angelo name. For the first time, I feel free—like a bird above these clouds.

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