Chapter 12 - After the StormBy sunrise, the underworld of New York had shifted entirely. The Moretti syndicate was dismantled, its remnants scattered or absorbed into neutral territories under strict Russo oversight.
When Antonio returned to the loft early Saturday morning, his coat was slightly rumpled, but his expression was one of profound relief. He walked straight to the living room where I sat anxiously staring out the window, wrapped in a blanket.
“It’s over, Sophie,” Antonio said softly, dropping his keys onto the counter and walking over to me. “The threat is gone. You are completely safe now.”
I stood up, the blanket slipping to the floor. “Is anyone hurt? Did—did it get bloody?”
“It ended the way business ends,” Antonio answered quietly, gently placing his hands on my shoulders. “No more shadows. No more bodyguards tailing you to the clinic. You can walk down the street tomorrow without looking over your shoulder.”
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I looked up into his dark eyes, searching for the ruthless mafia boss everyone whispered about, but all I saw was the man who had protected me, cared for me, and quietly carried the crushing burden of a war to keep me safe.
Without thinking, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, burying my face against his chest. For a moment, Antonio froze in sheer surprise, before his strong arms came around me, pulling me flush against him as if he never wanted to let go.
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