By the time the last of the guests slipped through the front doors, the foyer quieted into a soft, echoing hush. The kind that settled only after a night heavy with politics, posturing and expectations disguised as celebration.
I stood beside Dario at the bast of the marble steps, watching as the final capo clasped my grandfather's hand before disappearing into the night. The faint scent of cigar smoke and expensive cologne lingering in their wake.
Grandpa exhaled slowly as he made his way back to us, leaning lightly on his cane.
"Tonight was successful," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over both of us. "I know you're tired. Perhaps even more than I am."
My breath caught. His tone carried a weight I wasn't prepared for. Not the political kind, but something personal, almost vulnerable.
I stepped toward him and offered my hand. He took it immediately, his worn, familiar grip closing around mine. His thumb brushing over my knuckles, warm and steady, grounding me in a way nothing else tonight had managed.
"I know this arrangement did not grow from love," he continued, looking between us with an honesty that stung. "But I wish, truly, that you will find some measure of happiness in it." He paused. "That you both can build something real, just as my late wife and I had. For the future of this family."
My throat tightened, but I nodded. "We'll do our best, Nonno."
Dario straightened beside me, as if the weight of expectation had just been placed squarely across them. His expression, however, remained unreadable. Neither accepting or rejecting the blessing. Just...controlled. Masked.
Grandpa gave my hand one last squeeze before releasing it. "I'll leave you both for now," he said, setting his cane firmly on the marble as he straightened. "You should rest. Tomorrow will be another long day."
A soft ache tugged at my chest. I was about to leave for my mission tomorrow, while Dario would be returning to New York.
"I'll be downstairs waiting," he added gently. "I want to say goodbye before you leave."
I nodded, swallowing around the sudden tightness in my throat. "Of course, Nonno."
Grandpa offered us both a tired, but warm smile before turning toward the hallway. Our butler joining in his steps, slow but steady, disappearing toward his wing of the house.
The silence he left behind felt heavier than the noise that had filled the night.
"Listen," Dario began, shoving his hands into his pockets, his voice edged with something that wasn't quite irritation but wasn't softness either. "I'm sorry for assuming that things could...grow between us earlier."
I looked at him, brief surprise flickering through me, before I smoothed my expression into something cool and unreadable.
"It was wrong of me to think you wanted more out of this partnership," he added, the sarcasm in his tone slicing through the space between us.
I ignored the sting, swallowing it down before it could show. I didn't have feelings for him. God knows I didn't, but somehow, his words still landed in a place it shouldn't.
"That's fine," I said evenly. "We'll remain amicable. Friends."
I turned to go, but his hand closed around my wrist. The touch was brief, but I was suddenly grateful for the long sleeves of my dress. If he felt the shiver beneath my skin, it would give him the wrong idea.
I faced him again, keeping my voice steady. "What is it?"
He released me quickly, like he hadn't meant to grab me in the first place. For a moment, he looked down at his shoes, the façade cracking just enough to reveal something real beneath.
When his dark eyes lifted to mine, his voice was quieter. Almost human.
"Be safe," he said. "I'm heading back to New York tonight."
I blinked, just once. A small hitch in the moment, but nothing more.
"I see," I answered evenly.
He gave me a thin smile, polite and distant. The kind men wore when they were already halfway out the door in their minds. I just hadn't expected him to back away so...soon. But if that was his choice, I wasn't going to chase an explanation.
He inclined his head. "I'll see you when you return."
No promise. No warmth. Just formality, as clean and sharp as the suit he wore.
I nodded, matching him. "Safe travels."
He left without another word, disappearing down the corridor with quiet, purposeful strides. I watched long enough to confirm he was gone, before turning back toward my room. Eager to get this night over with.
There was no reason for his departure to bother me. It didn't. Not really.
Still...unexpected.
When I turned down the corridor toward my bedroom, my steps stalled.
Of course. Because the night apparently wasn't done testing me.
Josh was standing outside my door, dressed in his full uniform. Black suit, his earpiece in, posture alert. Exactly the opposite of what I needed. I've given him the night off hours ago, right before I left for dinner.
But here he was.
He straightened the second he saw me standing at the far end of the hall. I didn't bother hiding the irritation pulling at my mouth. He knew me too well for that.
"I thought I gave you the night off," I said as I approached, my voice flat.
"Well," he said, pacing a short line in front of the door, "I can't let you leave tomorrow without telling you something."
My brows lifted. I crossed my arms, exhausting scraping the edges of my patience. "It's been a long day. If this is mission-related, spit it out. If not, please let me get inside and sleep before I have to be on a plane at dawn."
He stopped pacing. Then he turned to me and something flickered. Something I hadn't seen in him in years. A shadow of the boy he'd been when my grandfather first brought him into the house. Orphaned. Desperate to prove he deserved the roof over his head.
He became one of our best snipers, until the injury on his shoulder benched him and landed him at my side instead.
His jaw flexed, like he was wresting with the words before releasing them.
"The man you're going after...he's more dangerous than you think," Josh said quietly. "You're going to need backup. You're going to need me."
A humorless breath slipped from me as I pressed a hand to my temple. "Josh, not this again." The exhaustion in my voice surprised even me. "You've been on this for weeks. I'm trained for this. I'm prepared. So unless you have new intel, please...just stop."
But he didn't back down. If anything, something in his expression tightened, resolute.
"It's not just intel," he said, shaking his head once. "It's because you know him."
That made me pause. Just for a second.
"Everyone in the Famiglia knows him," I said too quickly. "He's a threat. We all know that."
"That's not what I meant." His voice dropped, softer now, like he was afraid of how the words might land. "You knew him. Before the incident. Before you lost your memories."