Page 25 of Bound to the Enforcer

"Alessio…"

I look at her, the sound of my name coming off her lips doing something to me that I can't quite explain. The way she says it is almost like a question, but there's a hint of desperation behind it.

"What?" I ask, my tone sharper than I want it to be.

"I know I've screwed up. But I want to fix this. I want to help. I can't just sit here, waiting for you to tell me what to do or not to do. I need to be part of this, Alessio. I need to be more than just the person you're protecting."

For a moment, I'm speechless. The emotions that flicker in my chest—pride, frustration, something darker—are too much to process. I want to push her away, tell her that she's asking for too much, but I don't. I can't.

I walk toward her, closing the distance between us with measured steps. "You want to fight? Then fight," I say low and deliberate. "But you need to know that this world isn't kind, and those bullets that flew past your head are the base of it."

Her eyes meet mine again, and there's no anger in them now, no defensiveness. Just a quiet understanding, like she's finally seeing what this life requires.

"I don't expect fairness or forgiveness," she says softly. "I just want to make things right. I'll follow your lead, Alessio. I'll do whatever it takes."

It's a vow, a promise I didn't expect. And I'm not sure if I'm ready to trust it. But I nod, giving her the only answer I can. "Good."

There's a pause, and for the first time in days, the air between us feels lighter. Not entirely clear, but lighter.

I turn away, heading for the small table in the corner. "Get some rest," I repeat, trying to keep my tone even. "We've got a long road ahead of us."

She hesitates for a moment, but then she nods, retreating to the bedroom I directed her to when we walked in without another word.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, I let out a breath. The night feels too long, the weight of everything pressing on me. The danger, the betrayal, and the complicated emotions between us—it's all too much. But I can't stop now.

I'm not sure where this road is leading, but I know one thing: Sophia's in it with me. Whether she's ready for what comes next or not, she's in this world now. And I'll be damned if I let her face it alone.

Flashes of my past assault my mind before I manage to push them back behind their door.

I've been up for hours, sifting through the evidence, trying to piece together the full scope of what Domenico's been doing and gathering what we need for the vote.

It's not just about power anymore. It's personal—it's been personal. It's only that Sophia doesn't know how personal it truly is. The gnawing feeling of wanting to tell her plagues my mind again.

She isn't ready.

I lean back in the chair, exhaling a long, slow breath. It feels suffocating in the small room. I glance toward the kitchen, needing a break, something to pull me out of this endless spiral. Coffee, maybe.

I rise from the chair, the wooden legs scraping against the floor, and pick up my phone as I head to the kitchen.

The small kitchen is bare and practical, just like the rest of the cabin. I move to the counter, grabbing the dented kettle and filling it with water, the mundane task giving me something tofocus on. As I set the kettle on the stove, my phone vibrates in my hand. Matteo.

"Talk to me," I say as I pick up, leaning against the counter.

"Carlo's been quiet," Matteo replies low but steady. "The network's locked down tighter than a drum. He's been keeping to his inner circle. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But…" His tone shifts, a hint of frustration creeping in. "I don't trust it. It's too quiet. Something's off."

I glance toward the living room, where the stack of files still sits open, and rub a hand over my face. "I know. We're dealing with a snake, Matteo. And we both know how they work. Carlo doesn't make a move unless he's already got something lined up. He's waiting for us to make the first mistake. And I'm not giving him that satisfaction."

Matteo grunts in agreement. "Same with Domenico. He's been laying low, but we know he's planning something big. He's still got a lot of connections left, and he's desperate. If we don't move fast, he's going to come at us full force."

The kettle starts to whistle, and I turn off the stove, letting the noise fade into the background. "I'll deal with Domenico," I stand firm. "Get me eyes on Carlo. We need to find out what he's planning before he pulls the trigger."

There's a pause, and I know Matteo's thinking about what I've just said. The risk. The stakes. The lives on the line.

"You got it," he says after a moment. "But you know it's going to get worse before it gets better, right?"

I grab a mug from the cabinet, pouring the steaming water over instant coffee grounds, the bitter aroma filling the air. "I've been in worse, Matteo. We'll make it through."

There's a brief chuckle on the other end of the line. "That's the Alessio I know. You're damn good at what you do. Just… don't let it break you, all right?"

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