Page 68 of The Mafia's Second Shot

And I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.

48

COOPER

The apartment feels different tonight—warmer, more alive. Zoey is out with Evelyn, wrapping up some final details about her exhibit, leaving me alone to prepare. I glance around the bedroom, making sure everything is just right. The soft glow of candles fills the room, casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. The bouquet of wildflowers I picked up earlier sits on the nightstand, their vibrant colors a perfect reflection of Zoey’s spirit.

I sit on the edge of the bed for a moment, letting the quiet settle over me. It’s been a long time since I felt this kind of peace—a kind that isn’t tied to power or control, but to something real. Zoey’s success at the gallery was more than a win for her—it was a glimpse into the life we’re building together, one that feels entirely our own.

As I adjustthe last candle, my mind drifts to the past. It’s hard not to think about the man I used to be—the choices I made, the people I hurt, the lives I took. Stepping away from that world hasn’t been easy, and there are days when I still feel its pull, like an invisible thread tying me to the shadows.

But Zoey makes it easier. She’s my anchor, my reason to keep moving forward. Watching her at the gallery last night, surrounded by people who saw her for the brilliant artist she is, filled me with a pride I can’t put into words. She deserves everything good this world has to offer, and I’m determined to be the man who stands beside her, not the one who drags her down.

The soundof the front door opening pulls me from my thoughts. Zoey’s voice carries through the apartment, soft and melodic as she calls my name.

“In here,” I reply, standing.

She steps into the bedroom, her eyes widening as she takes in the scene. The candles, the flowers, the quiet intimacy of it all—it’s a far cry from the chaos that used to define our lives.

“Cooper,” she whispers, her voice tinged with surprise. “What is all this?”

I shrug, trying to play it cool, though my chest tightens at the sight of her standing there. “Just wanted to do something special for you.”

Her lips curve into a soft smile, and she steps closer, her hand brushing against my arm. “You’ve been doing special things for me since the day we met.”

“Not like this,” I say, my voice quiet but firm. “Last night was about your art, your success. Tonight’s about us.”

We settleonto the couch in the living room, a bottle of wine open between us. Zoey tucks her legs under her, leaning against my side as she takes a sip.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, tilting her head to look at me. “What’s on your mind?”

I hesitate, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that Zoey deserves my honesty—even when it’s hard.

“I’ve been thinking about everything,” I admit. “About us, about the future. About whether I can really leave the past behind.”

Her expression softens, and she sets her glass down, turning fully to face me. “What brought this on?”

“It’s just... I spent so many years in that life, Zoey. It’s who I was. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all I’ll ever be.”

She reaches for my hand, her touch grounding me. “That’s not true. You’re so much more than that, Cooper. You’ve already proven it.”

“Have I?” I ask, my voice rough. “I’ve done things I can’t take back. Things I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.”

“And you’re working to make up for them,” she says firmly. “You’re building something new, something better. That’s what matters.”

Her words hitme in a way I didn’t expect, cutting through the doubts I’ve carried for so long. I nod slowly, my hand tightening around hers. “I just don’t want to let you down.”

“You won’t,” she says, her voice unwavering. “I believe in you, Cooper. Always.”

The certainty in her gaze eases something deep inside me, a knot I didn’t realize I’d been carrying. I lean forward, pressing my forehead against hers. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asks, her smile soft.

“For seeing something in me I couldn’t see in myself,” I reply.

The evening passesin a quiet rhythm, filled with soft laughter and gentle touches. We talk about the coastal town we’ve been looking at, about the life we want to build there. Zoey’s excitement is contagious, and for the first time, I let myself believe it could actually happen.

As the candles burn lower, the mood shifts. Zoey moves closer, her fingers trailing along my jaw as her eyes search mine.

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