Page 17 of Of Lies and Shadows

He gives a stiff nod. “Morning.”

Alessio squints at him like he’s evaluating a new recruit. “You can’t just barge into the middle of a mission.”

I see it, the flicker in Dante’s eyes. He wants to be involved. So I smile, lifting my chin.

“Oh, good,” I say, playing along. “We have a new mate.”

His brows lift. “I’m a mate?”

“Well,” I say with exaggerated seriousness, “Alessio is the Captain. I’m First Mate. So it’s this or... powder monkey.”

He blinks. “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds insulting.

Lucia stands, wand in hand, a crown askew on her curls. “I’m the Sea Goddess, obviously.”

“Ah. Of course,” Dante says slowly, glancing around the room strewn with blankets, stuffed sea creatures, and one very aggressive glitter cannon fashioned from a toilet paper roll. He steps closer but stays near the edge of the chaos, clearly unsure where, or how, to begin.

“You can be the cartographer,” Alessio offers after a beat. “That means you draw the maps.”

“I know what it means,” Dante says, then hesitates. “But I... don’t draw.”

“Papa,” Lucia sighs. “You don’t have to actually draw. Just pretend.”

His lips twitch, like he might smile. He lowers himself to one knee, wincing slightly. “What does a cartographer do during a kraken attack?”

I hand him a plastic compass. “Mostly panic.”

He takes it gingerly, like it might explode. “I see.”

For a while, he stays awkwardly at the edge, watching as I twirl Lucia into a magical sea portal and Alessio bravely throws cushions at an imaginary enemy. But then, slowly, he tries—holding up the compass, drawing invisible lines on the hardwood floor, narrating in a deep, serious tone about the treacherous waters of the carpet reef.

Lucia giggles. Alessio rolls his eyes but lets him stay.

I can see how much effort it takes him to play. It doesn’t come naturally. But he wants to try for them. That’s what gets me.

When the kraken is defeated and peace restored to the sunroom kingdom, the kids turn their attention to building a pillow fort. I sink down beside Dante, sitting cross-legged on the floor, my hand still sticky from a glitter potion spill.

He glances at me sideways. “How did I do?”

“Well,” I murmur, “you survived a glitter storm, got knighted by a sea goddess, and didn’t complain once about the plastic crown. I’d say you did well.”

He exhales a breath of dry laughter. “I feel like I’ve been through battle.”

I bump my shoulder lightly against his. “Welcome to Tuesday.”

Lucia climbs into his lap, all soft limbs and cotton dress, and whispers something in his ear that makes his eyes close briefly like her words physically moved something in him. Alessio leans against his other side, a knight at rest, chewing on a fruit snack.

And I watch them. I watch how they lean on him. How he lets them. Not because it comes easy but because he wants to.

And for a moment, I pretend this instant is real, except it isn’t. Not really.

Because no matter how warm this house feels, how close I sit to him now, I can’t let myself forget why I came.

I was promised my freedom.

If I give the Vescari enough to destroy Dante Forzi’s empire, I walk away. No more aliases. No more debts. No more bloodstained loyalty to a father who only sees me as leverage.

Just… gone. Free. Clean. I tell myself that’s still what I want.

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