Page 116 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince
Into his shoulder, into the quiet space between his heart and mine.
And when the tears finally run dry, when my body goes slack with exhaustion, he shifts only to lay me down.
His fingers find my hair, smoothing it back with a patience that feels older than anything I’ve known in this house.
He doesn’t leave.
Doesn’t retreat behind duty or distance.
He lies beside me, one arm beneath my head, the other tracing gentle circles across my shoulder until the rhythm pulls us both under.
It’s a while later when my eyes fly open at the sound of knocking on the door. He wakes up just a minute after I do.
I tense first, but it is not the kind of knock that means danger.
Not the three-rap code of a guard or Luca’s sharper rhythm.
It is lighter.
Almost uncertain.
Then I hear the soft voice on the other side, barely a whisper.
"Mama?"
Dante sits up immediately, grabbing his discarded shirt and pulling it on, still half-buttoned as he crosses the room.
I wrap the sheet around myself and gather my robe, heart already flipping into a different rhythm.
When the door swings open, both girls are standing there.
Arietta with one braid undone, Alessia clutching a stuffed lion to her chest.
"Can we sleep with you?" Alessia asks, and it takes all the composure I have not to dissolve entirely.
Dante doesn’t hesitate.
He reaches for them both and lifts one under each arm, letting them cling to his sides like small vines, their limbs wrapped around him.
He walks them to the bed where I’ve already pulled back the cover, and they tumble in, breathless with joy.
They smell like rosewater shampoo and clean linen.
Arietta burrows into my side.
Alessia presses herself against Dante, already half asleep.
There is no war in this room.
No codes.
No bloodlines.
Just this small, strange thing we have built.
I don’t know how to name it without sounding like I’m tempting fate.
So, would it still be the end if we chose to survive it together, if this… if I allowed this to be my real family instead of mourning over the brother who may have sold me off?
