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“But there is reason,” I utter, trying to keep myself from breaking. I never wanted to be this close to telling the truth.

“What?” he asks, bafflement hitting him instantly. “What reason?”

I shake my head, not wanting to say a word. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” he says, bringing a hand to cradle my face. “Whatever it is, it changes nothing.”

“It changes everything,” I say, breaking the connection his formed. “It’s why I can’t do this anymore.”

I watch as confusion clouds his face, haunting his every feature and it only exacerbates the agony in me over this fact. He looks physically wounded by the fact I’ve stepped back, becoming ignorant to his touch and his comfort. I hate that I’ve done that to him. I loathe myself for dragging him into this sorry predicament.

“Amelia,” he whispers, trying hard to quell his hurt from showing in his voice. “Whatever it is, it cannot be that bad!” My silence is all that meets him and I can tell he’s unprepared for such a response. I usually have some sort of verbal comeback and here I am silenced on my spot. That seemingly breaks him quicker than anything – that matched with my doleful expression and teary eyes shatter his nerve and his breaks. “Amelia! For Christ’s sake! Talk to me! We go from talking about forever to you now seemingly wanting a life without me! What the fuck has happened that has you running scared again?!” I close my eyes and he grabs onto me, offering a small shake before he says, “Amelia, you’re scaring me now.” I open my eyes, greeted with a heated gaze. “Whatever it is it cannot be as bad as you think it is!”

“Is it,” I whisper and I can only find my voice sinking into nothing. I know I have to tell him what I can before I bottle it completely. “I can’t have children,” I state, finally accepting the truth that will destroy us. “That’s why I’ve starting to run scared, Zane. Giovanni may have destroyed my chances of ever having a future with you because of what he has done.”

His hands fall away from me now and that look I hoped I’d never have to see is presented right before me. I’ve created a new world of anguish for him, thrusting heartache into his life seemingly every time I breathe.

“That’s why I can’t do this anymore,” I say and I crack. My voice quivers and all the tears I had shed earlier don’t even compare to what I’m about to unleash now. “I will never destroy the chance for you to have a happy family, Zane. I’ve taken so much from you, expected more than I should, but I will not beg you stay anymore if there is no future.” I don’t dare look behind Zane. He’s already breaking my heart in two; I don’t want to think about the looks on my brothers’ faces. “So, that’s why I’m ready to let you go for good.”

He doesn’t listen; he just closes the gap between us. Everything Zane invades my system and I weaken.

“Please, don’t,” I utter, trying to stop him mid-step. “Don’t make this harder, please. I beg of you.” I sob, feeling each new sob form a larger lump in my throat. “Just see this as the best thing I could ever do for you now.”

He doesn’t heed my words. Instead, he steps closer.

“It won’t be the best thing when I can’t love anyone past you.” Now he grabs me gentler than before. His hands wrapping around my biceps to pull me closer, and he prepares to fight a new fight for me. “My future revolves around you, Amelia. Sei mia, per sempre. I mean that. There’s a lot of uncertainty in life, but I’ve been in this long enough to know that our love story is far grander, far more impressive than any love story already written in history. Forever, sweetheart.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to mine. “That means children would be an addition to that. I told you once that I couldn’t survive without you. Well, I wasn’t lying. It is a physical impossibility. I’ve tried and failed at it before; don’t make me try a third time.”

“But you’ll end up hating me in the future.” I close my eyes, but Zane’s grasp gently applies pressure, forcing me to open my eyes again. “How could you not?”

“Because you’re my world,” he retorts, a light, heartfelt tone matching his words. “I live, sleep, and breathe you, Amelia. My life starts and ends with you.” I know he can see he needs to work harder. I’ve worked myself up to this level of paranoia, but his fight only strengthens. “You said once that the thought of losing me left you breathless. The same thought kills me. When you wouldn’t wake up, I felt like I had died multiple times while I waited for you to look at me. You took your sweet time, Amelia, but you came back to me. But the thought of a future without you is crippling and almost fatal. You are my Femme Fatale. And I never want you to be anything else.”

My eyes water heavier than ever.

“I just want you to have everything,” I reply miserably. “I used to think it was me, but now, I feel like there’s a chance I can’t do that. You deserve only the best.”

“You are my best, Amelia Abbiati.” He now pulls me wholly into his embrace. “I have my family by just having you. For today, please mourn your brother. Tomorrow we’ll deal with everything else.”

“This is the end of the Dio Lavoro, isn’t it?”

My question gets a lot of shocked looks, but I don’t feel threatened to change my mind. I watch them all look baffled and I just smile.

“If you ask me, it’s been a long time coming.”

It’s actually a notion I wanted to see happen when our mother died. How did I believe that her death was part of God’s work? Now, however, I am not young nor am I naive. I feel stupid for not taking a stand, but I know that everything that has happened has built me into a conscientious lover, one who will adore unmistakably, who will breathe freely, and one who will never trust a man just because of a blood relation.

“I’m with Amelia,” Carlo chimes in, twisting his tumbler of scotch around in his hands. “I’ll be happy to finally just be Carlo.” He shrugs and looks around the room. “There is no love lost now. In my eyes, we said our goodbye to all family ties the moment that crypt was locked up tight. Our father wasn’t a part of the funeral, he wasn’t part of remembering Manuel like we did, and in his eyes, he wasn’t a part of letting Giovanni get to the point he did.”

The anger that boils beneath Carlo’s skin is only becoming evident as days pass. I know he blames himself far more than he let us know and I know he will bully himself into being an alcoholic if we let him. I’ve lost enough family; I refuse to do it anymore. I’ll allow him to vent off his grievances, and I have to pray Enzo will finally step up or I will have to do it for him.

“He deserves to be left behind in a revolution he created if he’s not even fucking man enough to stand up and accept responsibility anymore. He did this to us. He brought us all to our knees. It’s time we found our own footing and we lived for us.”

“We’ll do that when you wipe that look of guilt from your expression,” Bruno mutters, taking a sip of his own drink. “We can’t start fresh until we all reach a point of acting like this wasn’t our damn fault.” He looks around accusatorily. “I could blame myself until I’m blue in the face, lose time with my kids over guilt tripping myself, deny myself the life I fought for because I wasn’t here to save any of you from getting caught up in what Gio became, but I won’t. Giovanni Abbiati is a sick and twisted bastard and he would’ve gone after the weakest in his eyes whether we were here together like we are now or sleeping in our own beds.” Bruno sets his glass down, pushing it away to soberly look at us all. “No one in this room needs to find fault in themselves when they weren’t the ones who cut our baby brother up. If you were, I would’ve disowned you, too, and I’d never have regretted doing that.”

“Bruno’s right,” Enzo finally speaks. “We have proven we are still a family. If anything, we’ve strengthened that, but we cannot continue to carry on in this house. I want us to remain close, really show that we don’t need anything Papà has to offer us. We’ve all laundered money across the years. Especially Carlo and I. When we were fixing it to get you out, Lia, we set up a bank account, so we have some money set aside.”

“And I don’t plan to skip out on helping people escape this life,” Carlo speaks, shrugging. “So I’ll still have some sort of income to make sure we’re all good for a long, long time.”

“I might not have saved Manuel, but I can have a hand in making sure people never end up in this predicament. I can have a say on that, I can make a difference.”

“So you really have stopped blaming yourself then?” I ask, giving him a small, knowing smile. I watch as he begins to nod his head and I finally see a change in us all. It might be a tiny step, but it feels like a gigantic jump after the passing days. “Well, then let’s find a house so we can finally start a new chapter in life.”

With merry agreement, everyone turns back to the laptops or papers they’re searching through. I start flicking through the photos of houses on the website that Carlo has been searching through and I stop at one. I look at the architecture, the rooms upon rooms of open spaces and start to imagine a life within those walls. Stupidly, I imagine Zane.

I know for now that I need my brothers closer than ever. I need to feel like the threat of Giovanni isn’t hovering over my shoulder like a descendant of Lucifer preying on its next victim. He’s our modern day Mestopheles, and that is all he’ll ever be defined as. The great Salvatore Abbiati was never the devil incarnate, his spawn was.

“What you looking at, sweetheart?” Zane asks, occupying the seat beside me. “You’re looking pretty focused.”

I look at him and smile coyly. “Just looking at this one house.” I look back at the screen, eyeing up the picket fences, roses bushes, a large and open porch, and enormous windows that overlook the glorious front yard. “It’s almost perfect.”

“We can always go and have a look at it. Looking at setting our own roots,” he murmurs, his case captivated on the images before him.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “First, it’s about everyone. Then we can look into a place for us to call home.” I take his hand, wrapping my fingers through his. “I need my family right now, Zane. That’s all.”

“I understand that, but they will push you to take control of your life,” he tells me, uttering truths to me.

“I know, but right now, I want them close,” I murmur, my tone hushed still.

“I know.” He says nothing else. All I feel is Zane pushing a kiss into the side of my head, forcing me to close my eyes as I enjoy the sheer moment of adoration.

“Plus, I know whatever house you pick for us will far exceed this.” I turn my head and look at him, smiling teasingly. “You think you can do that?”

“That house will be history,” he counters, grinning with agreement at the challenge.

“Good,” I softly say, reaching up to steal one delicate kiss. “Life has to be perfect after all this fucking shit.”

I lean into Zane’s embrace, my hand still reaching out to flick through the houses. I look at houses ranging in size to differing prices. They’re in Manhattan, outside Manhattan, and I also see that Carlo had opened a search to look further afield. I look at one and it’s in a quiet suburban neighborhood, much like Bruno’s, and I could imagine that sort of life sorting me perfectly. I’ve lived in the hustle and bustle of the city when I’m not cloistered away in the hellish mansion. Now is the time to really settle and think long and hard about life.

Which is where my number one problem creeps up on me.

“There’s no way we can afford any of these,” I mutter miserably looking at the prices only become higher than ever. “Not without money and Sal made sure the only income we had was straight from him.” I feel resentment bubble and I begin to scrunch my face up in disdain. “I know you’ve said you’ve put money aside and Carlo’s said he’ll continue working, but what about the rest of us?”

“I’ll go back to work,” Zane comments, showing his commitment.

“The Valentinos have offered consultation jobs,” Enzo comments, his so blasé that he doesn’t even pick up on my mood swiftly changing. “Since finding out about Gio, Dante Valentino’s already gotten in contact. He’s willing to help us where he can.”

“Dante Valentino?” Zane asks, noticing how stiff I’ve become.

“He’s an old friend of ours,” I immediately chime. My past with Dante was not the best.

“Amelia’s closest friend,” Enzo barks, chuckling a little as he covers up mine and Dante’s true motives at having a friendship.

“Not anymore,” I comment dryly.

I would ask how Dante found out about our family dramas, but the Valentinos were hardly strangers, and they aren’t part of the general public. They were a family much like ours, just far more corrupt. Their demise had started well before Dante was even born, and it was a twenty-six year spiral before it all ended in the most shocking way possible.

Dante was always my partner in crime, no romanticism involved, but he was a force I loved to run with. That was until he became the only living heir to the Valens family. Then he cut ties and disappeared. He was a massive part of my life while growing up and again when Zane broke up with me the first time. But we never indulged in gratification that wasn’t murderous.

He just broke that habit sooner – or so I assume.

“Should I be jealous?” Zane quips, derision in his tone.

“No!” I’m quick to defend. “Dante was like me. He was an assassin, but it destroyed everything he had. It didn’t end well for him and since then he left the world and everyone in it. He moved to California or somewhere, but he’s never made contact.” I flash a gaze over to Enzo. “Until now, apparently. He doesn’t know how life’s changed.”

“Oh, he knows. He does want to meet the great Zane Maverick,” Enzo jokes, giving a pointed look at Zane.

“He always did,” I joke, laughing wryly. “He hated you once upon a time. Not sure if he’d understand why I’m here loving you now.”

“He met his match, Amelia,” Carlo chirps, winking at me. “He can’t argue much considering how explosive he and Sammy were. You can’t argue with true love.”

“Here, here!” Zane agrees, settling down. “I’ll meet him, but if he swings any punches, I’ll hit back.”

“Dante’s approach is a little more aggressive than punches,” I mutter, trying to tease, but I’ve seen Dante approach many battles and his line of defense wasn’t to walk away after a clean fight. “I can talk him down, though. You’re one of the good guys.”

“I think Carmello would beg to differ,” Carlo scoffs, sitting down next to me. Before either Zane or I can respond, he just grabs the laptop. “That’s a nice one. I actually quite love this.”

It’s the house I had been staring at before. I had closed the tab down and I had just clicked on it to delete it when Carlo came over to me.

“But costs?” I ask, spoiling the excitement beginning to manifest among us. I don’t want to ruin the mood, but how can I not be realistic?

“Costs can be negotiated and we have financial aid,” Enzo comments, remaining unmoved by the unrelenting stress this will reap upon us. We’ve all had bids of freedom, but none of us have truly lived outside the walls of the great Abbiati mansion, except Bruno. None of us have had a chance of living our own lives. “Whatever happens we will be out of this house within the few days. Mark my words.”

“We need to look at jobs,” I remark, not remaining quite so calm and collected on the unrighteous shock we’re all going to get when we no longer work for our father or have his money supplying us all. “I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.”

“It’ll happen. It’ll be something we work toward together,” Zane mentions, taking my hand. “I’ll be going back to work. Billy’s got them believing I was on a sabbatical.” He pulls his shoulders up, mindlessly mulling over the circumstances that could lead him back to work. “It seemed apparent I needed the time after a failed relationship, the death of my mom, and then my shooting. They were all waiting for me to break down. Billy played upon that. Maybe it is good having a partner who has the inside scoop on you lot.”

“They want you back?” Bruno asks, intrigue filtering his system.

“They need me back,” Zane muses, looking a little pleased with himself. “They’ve never found my replacement, so they’ve been pestering Billy a little to find out what I’m playing at. If I’m honest, I miss it, but I will not regret coming back for Amelia.”

I feel a small blush beginning to creep up my chest, clawing up my throat to infuse a pink shade across my colorless cheeks. I never knew an importance quite like this. You can tell yourself that to one person you mean the world, but until you really are the middle of someone else’s universe, you never quite know just how it feels. That feeling of being loved, wanted, and cherished is like being delivered every star in the sky.

“Before this turns into a gushy moment, can we look back at houses?” Carlo quips, breaking the sentimental moment. “As much as I love you two loved up, I don’t think my stomach loves it as much.” He gives me a twisted grin, really teasing me. “We can discuss job plans at a later date.”

There’s a moment of deliberation and then I’m hit with a brainwave. The brilliance of the idea strikes me comical and I have no idea why I never thought of it before.

“I have an idea,” I utter, getting up from my seat.

I ignore everyone around me as I leave the room and head for the stairs. I rush up them, skipping a few steps as I go, as if it’ll hurry my pace. In actual fact, it just seems to tire my body quicker, but I know I have to fight against this bout of fatigue.

I enter my room, bypassing everything so I can get to my closest. I walk inside and seek out my safe. I punch my code in and open it. I have three items stashed in the little charcoal, fireproof box – a small amount of money, my gun, and my mother’s pearls. I snatch the money and the necklace and slam the safe shut. Hurrying myself, I head back stairs and into the great room where everyone seems to be waiting with bated breath.

“I put a little bit of money away every now and then,” I say, throwing the wad of green papers down onto the table. “I’ve never counted it, but that could help us.” I then present them with the necklace, my most prized possession. “And we can sell these,” I say, presenting them with my mother’s pearls. “They have to be worth something for Gio to have presented them at that poker game.”

“No way,” Enzo intervenes. “You’ve lost so much and given up so much already, Lia. You’re not going to give them up, too.”

“I’d rather lose them than have to continue to deal with Manuel gone,” I utter, dumping the pearls on the tabletop. “They’re barely worth anything to me in comparison.”