When I drop my palms, Rafaele is studying me warily.
“Explain.”
“I couldn’t kill him. I don’t know what I would have done if De Rossi hadn’t called. I couldn’t think. My head felt like it was on the verge of exploding. I’d lost you, and I was about to lose him, and it was all my fucking fault. I was crumbling under the weight of everything. Nero told me to do it, to just shoot him, and even though I knew it was the only sure way to deescalate the situation, I couldn’t pull the trigger.” He shakes his head. “When De Rossi called and we started talking, I got an idea. I could make it look like Nero died in a fire. We got two bodies—two of your father’s guys that we killed at the warehouse—and we put them inside the safe house.”
“Two?”
“One was supposed to be Nero. The other, Sandro.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Sandro left with Nero. I needed someone with Nero to make sure he doesn’t come back.”
This is nuts. “Okay, then what?”
“We burned the safe house down, and Giorgio hacked into the police records to swap the DNA data they had on Nero to match that of the Garzolo guy we said was him.”
Oh my God. My heart races. Nero is alive. “It worked?”
He nods. “Gino bought it. We have a truce, although things between us are still tense. They have to be. Gino wouldn’t believe that I’d just forget he made me kill my closest friend. Cleo, Nero doesn’t blame you for any of this. He said that to me just before we said goodbye. I think he’d want you to know.”
It’s like a dark veil has been lifted from my eyes. My throat is dry, but relief blooms inside of me. “You couldn’t kill him.”
A sad smile appears on Rafaele’s face. “I couldn’t kill him. I always said I’d do whatever it takes to defend my rule, but I was lying to myself. I’m not my father. He didn’t love anyone, and he thought that gave him power, but if that’s what power means, I don’t want it.”
“What do you want?” I whisper.
Rafaele crosses the short distance between us and wraps his arms around me. His gaze—so bright, so vulnerable—pierces through me. “I want to make you deliriously happy. I want to give you everything. When I first agreed to marry you, I thought I’d tame you. I was so confident, so sure you’d pose no challenge to me, but I was so damn wrong. I didn’t tame you. You are the one who conquered me—thoroughly and completely. I am not the man you married, not anymore. But if you give me a chance, I will be the husband you deserve.”
A sob escapes me. I press my cheek against his shirt, and he tucks the top of my head under his chin. His palms travel up and down my arms, comforting me. He smells so damn good.
Like home.
I wrap my arms around Rafaele’s waist and allow my body to melt against his. A satisfied grunt rumbles deep inside his chest, and he holds me tighter. The last of my hesitation fades away. We stand like that until the concert ends. Until the doors open and people come flooding outside. Until the moon kisses the horizon and a sprinkle of rain touches my skin. My vision is blurry, but my chest is light.
Rafaele pulls back just enough to search my face. He drags the pad of his thumb over my cheek, his eyes full of warmth. “I love you, tesoro. Please come home with me.”
I rake my fingers through his hair as my stomach does a flip. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing him say those words. He stares at me like I’m the most important thing in the world, and I realize in that moment that I believe it.
For the first time since he arrived in Italy, I smile at him. “Okay. I will.”
Relief floods his expression, and he doesn’t waste a second before he leans down and claims my lips in a kiss.
EPILOGUE
RAFAELE
When the sun rises the next morning, I feel like a completely different person. I went from being a miserable bastard to being the luckiest man in the world. Cleo is coming back to New York with me. There’s a weird stuttering inside my chest at the thought of having her in my home again.
Our home.
I plan on telling her she can redecorate all she wants. We’ll even get a damned dog if it makes her happy, but under the condition that the creature will make no attempts to keep me away from her.
My bag of clothes is sitting by the closet, so I pull on a shirt and a pair of pants and leave the guest bedroom in search of my wife. I tried to convince Cleo to spend the night with me after we came back from the concert, but she refused, telling me she wanted to take it slowly. My stomach sank with disappointment, my body not at all onboard with that idea. Still, I knew I couldn’t push her last night. She’ll come to me when she’s ready.