Page 158 of Rosetti Family New York
After the madness of Christmas lunch, I sneak upstairs for a break from the chaos.
From up here, on the roof of the Rosetti building, everything looks small. Snow dusts the ledge, melting slowly under the heat of my coffee mug. The air bites at my throat.
Below, someone’s playing a saxophone on the corner. “White Christmas,” probably.
I should be inside. Everyone’s still drinking grappa and arguing over who’s the worst cook in the family. Carmela’s pretending to hate the chaos. Rafe’s actually hating it. And Besiana…
Besiana is laughing.
Not performing. Not calculating. Not apologizing.
Just—laughing.
I’ve never heard her do it like that before. Loud. Unguarded. Like the sound belonged to her all along and she’d just remembered how to use it.
I take another sip of the scalding coffee, then exhale into the air.
Love was supposed to be the enemy of control. That’s what I’ve always believed. That it made men soft, careless, weak. That it distracted them from the job, from the empire. That it got them killed.
But then she looked at me across that table tonight—her hand resting on mine like it belonged there, her eyes steady,present—and I felt something I’ve never associated with love.
Focus.
I would still tear the world apart to protect her. Still burn kingdoms to the ground. But not because I’ve lost control.
Because she gave me a reasonto have it.
A reason to wield it. Not for legacy. Not for power. Forus.
The door opens behind me.
I don’t have to turn to know it’s her.
Her shoes click across the stone. She’s wearing my sweater, the hem brushing her thighs. She doesn’t speak. Just comes to stand beside me, close enough that her shoulder brushes mine.
She hands me a second mug. Hers is already half-empty. I take it.
“It’s getting quiet in there,” she says after a moment.
“You mean Leo finally shut up?”
“Miracles do happen.”
We stand there a while. No sound but the wind and whatever’s still playing on that distant saxophone.
Then I say it. Quietly.
“You don’t take anything from me, Besiana.”
She glances up at me. I don’t look away.
“You remind me what I’m fighting for.”
Her breath catches. Just for a second.
Then she presses her cheek against my arm, her voice warm and steady.
“Same.”
