Chapter 6 - Until My Last Breath
Three months later.
The Tuscan sun washed over the rolling green hills, painting the stone walls of the old villa in warm shades of gold and terracotta. The breeze smelled of lavender, sweet earth, and the distant salt of the Mediterranean Sea.
On the wooden patio overlooking the vineyard, a small table was set with fresh bread, fruit, and coffee.
Mia was running through the grass below, her dark curls bouncing in the sunlight, chasing a golden retriever puppy that Victor had gifted her for her eighth birthday. Her laughter—bright, clear, and unburdened by the memory of dark warehouses—echoed across the valley.
Elena stood by the stone railing, wearing a simple white linen dress. Her skin had recovered its healthy warmth, her eyes clear and full of life. The bruises were gone, replaced by the peace that comes when a long night finally gives way to morning.
I walked up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist, resting my chin gently on her shoulder.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked softly.
Elena leaned back into my chest, her fingers weaving through mine, tracing the silver wolf ring on my hand.
"I was thinking about the night you gave me this bracelet," she whispered, raising her wrist. The silver band caught the bright sunlight, the inner engraving clean and shining against her skin. "Until my last breath."
"I meant every word," I said, turning her around to face me. "Even when I thought you were gone. Even when I was burning the world down just to keep the darkness away."
"You built us a home out of the ashes, Adriano," she said, reaching up to gently kiss my cheek. "You saved us."
"No," I replied, looking down at the grass where Mia was tumbling over the puppy, her pure laughter filling the warm air. "She saved me. If she hadn't walked through those warehouse doors, if she hadn't called me 'Daddy,' I would still be a ghost sitting on an empire of cold steel."
Mia ran up the stone steps, her face flushed with excitement, holding a bright purple wildflower she had just picked from the meadow.
"Look, Daddy!" she shouted, holding the flower up to me with a brilliant smile. "I found the best one for Mommy!"
I dropped to one knee, taking the flower and placing it behind Elena’s ear, then pulling both of them into my arms. The wind rustled through the olive trees, carrying away the last remnants of the city, the blood, and the name that men used to whisper in the dark.
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Here, high above the world, Adriano De Luca was no longer a Don. He was no longer a monster, a king, or an executioner.
He was just a father, holding the two people who had brought him back to life.
